Reflections Down a Corridor
by jespah
Summary: E2 timeline. The Enterprise is thrown back in time and becomes a generational ship. Begins on January 17, 2154 but continues in April of 2037. WARNING: Homophobic character. Some adult situations. First book of four.
1. Chapter 1 - The Throwback

Chapter 1 – The Throwback

"Hoshi, I'd like the intercom. And I'd like for you to make a recording for everyone, and send it to everyone. The night shift deserves to hear this first-hand," Captain Archer said.

"Yes, sir," she fiddled with some controls at her station. "Go ahead."

"All hands, this is the captain," Jonathan said. "The full enormity of our situation is becoming clear. It appears that a Kovaalan impulse manifold created a particle wake. The subspace corridor was thereby destabilized. The resulting time shift has caused us to be thrown back to," he glanced at Chief Engineer Tripp Tucker for confirmation, "2037."

Tripp nodded. Jonathan continued. "I know, when we all woke up this morning, it was 2154. And none of us dreamed that we would, suddenly, have hit a date that comes before the birth of all of our great-grandparents."

He coughed a little. "I can't tell any of you how to feel. I can't even begin to think of how this will psychologically affect all of us over, over time. There isn't exactly any sort of precedent for this."

He shifted in his seat, feeling horribly uncomfortable about what he had to say next. "The senior staff will convene in an hour to determine whether, under any circumstances, we can return to Earth, or contact our allies. This is before First Contact with Vulcan. I don't imagine I need to draw anyone a diagram, but we should leave our options open. Thank you."

He motioned to Hoshi to cut the transmission, and she did. "Tell all of the department heads to come to the meeting," he said, "this means I want to see a representative from every area. Hayes from the MACOs, Shelby will represent Botany even though it's a one-woman department. Get Chef in, to represent Food Service. I don't want to hear later that someone felt their department wasn't represented. I'll be in my Ready Room. Tripp, you have the Bridge."

He left abruptly, and the rest of them looked at each other, a little anxiously. Hoshi recovered and started sending out the meeting invitations.

=/\=

In the kitchen, a PADD _dinged_. Sous-chef Lili O'Day looked over. "Huh, it's not me."

Chef Will Slocum was already looking at his PADD. "I, uh, I'm being included in that meeting the captain mentioned. Let's put together a small spread of coffee and tea and the leftover sweet rolls. And I guess you'll have to start dinner without me."

"What do you want me to make, Will?"

"Uh, something comforting."

"Mac and cheese? And maybe a vegan chopped salad as an alternative?"

"Sounds good," he said, "I have no idea when we'll be done. There's no end time listed."

"I'll, uh, if I don't see you in an hour," Lili said, "I'll come in and see if I can collect the cart and the dirty dishes."

"Okay. We'll probably need a break by then."

=/\=

In the gym, the MACOs had all stopped with their drill in order to listen to Captain Archer. Major Jay Hayes was checking his own PADD. "I, uh, I'll be in that meeting. Cole, lead everyone in simulation number five. Then a run, uh, ten laps around the perimeter."

"And then what, sir?" she asked.

"You can break for the day," he said, distracted.

"Yes, sir."

=/\=

They were setting up the refreshments when Lieutenant Malcolm Reed arrived. "Are those made with dairy?" he asked as soon as he saw the sweet rolls.

"There's a little milk and butter in the dough, but not too much," Lili said.

"Oh." He looked a little disappointed.

"We're having mac and cheese tonight," she said, "you can get dairy in then."

"Uh …"

"Oh!" The light dawned. Lili leaned over near Malcolm as the others were starting to arrive. "I'm also making a vegan chopped salad. I can, uh, roast a little chicken on the side for you to have with it. But, uh, keep it on the QT. Otherwise, everyone'll want some, and I'm making dinner by myself and I won't be able to accommodate them."

He smiled at her tentatively. "They'll have to torture me to get that information."

Lili nodded conspiratorially and left.

"All right, everybody here?" Captain Archer asked. Shelby Pike and Major Hayes were still getting refreshments, but everyone else was already settled in. "I'll just dive right in without preliminaries," Jonathan began, "I don't have to tell anyone here that this situation is critical. It's also unprecedented. So I am open to any and all suggestions. Let's start with our current situation and anticipated needs."

Shelby raised her hand. They all stared at her, so she put it down quickly. "Uh, sorry, I've never been to one of these meetings before. I was, uh, we have good food crop supplies but they aren't unlimited."

"What about the replicators?" Jonathan asked.

"We can do what we can to maintain 'em," Tripp said, "and maybe even figure out how to program in more variety. I can maybe put one of the more junior engineers on that."

"I, uh," Chef Slocum looked almost as uncomfortable as Shelby did, "I could have Lili work with your engineer, to make sure the flavors and textures were right."

"That might not cover everything, sir," Shelby said, "We may start to run out of things."

"Let's make working on the replicators a priority," Jonathan said, "Tripp, assign your man to it as one hundred percent of his time."

"Sir," Malcolm said, "There also aren't an infinite number of torpedoes. We may need to do some trading in order to obtain alloys and the like."

"T'Pol, we can't work with Earth or Vulcan. Do you have any suggestions on who we _can_ work with?"

"It may be best to investigate working with independent merchants, rather than with government officials, in order to try to avoid being mentioned in any culture's official historical records," the Vulcan replied.

"I may need to replenish my supply of experimental animals the same way," Doctor Phlox said.

"Is there anything else that might become an immediate need?" Jonathan asked.

"We may need all kinds of equipment, like plasma injectors and the like. Trade's probably engineering's best option," Tripp said. "I doubt we'll be able to get anything we wouldn't have to modify pretty extensively."

"Right. Now let's talk about getting out of this predicament. Any ideas?" the captain asked. There were too many immediate needs, and the list was already long and oppressive. _Perhaps this would be a way to add some good news to the mix?_

"We've tried reversing course, but that doesn't seem to matter," said Travis Mayweather, the pilot.

"Conditions have apparently changed too much," T'Pol stated.

"Can we try to contact Daniels?" Hoshi asked, referring to a time traveler who had visited earlier.

"You and I could go into his old quarters," Tripp offered, "and see if there's anything that resembles a transmitter."

"Malcolm, assist with that," Jonathan said. Malcolm nodded. "Any other ideas?"

The room was quiet. "Okay," Jonathan said, "let's talk about how we're going to handle things if we can't get out of this."

"Returning to Earth or Vulcan would contaminate both cultures," T'Pol said.

"Isn't that only if the entire ship goes?" Major Hayes asked. "Couldn't Commander T'Pol go to Vulcan by herself? Or we could send a few people to Earth if we needed to, they'd, uh, they'd have to lay low, and not make waves. But we could do it if we really needed supplies, right?"

"How would we hide the ship?" Hoshi asked.

"Use the transporter," Hayes said.

"The range isn't that great," Tripp pointed out.

They all thought for a moment. "What if someone was beamed over to a more remote human outpost? Like, I dunno, Jupiter Station," Travis suggested.

"Does Jupiter Station even exist?" Tripp asked.

Hoshi clicked around on her PADD. She shook her head. "And before you even ask, we're a good thirty-plus years from the establishment of the Martian colonies, too."

"Lunar colony?" Jonathan asked.

"A little over twenty years from now," Shelby said, looking up from her PADD, eyes shining a little.

"You still might be able to go to Vulcan," Hayes said to T'Pol.

"Be that as it may," Jonathan said, "if we can't get out of this, we are going to be stuck here for a long time."

"I cannot put enough of the crew into stasis," Phlox said, "and certainly not for over a century."

"What are you saying, Doctor?" Jonathan asked.

The door swished open. It was Lili. "Oh, sorry!" she said, "I came to get the dirty dishes." She began gathering the plates.

"Well?" Jonathan prompted.

"This generation," the Denobulan said, "with the possible exception of T'Pol, will not make it back to 2154. The _Enterprise_ will have to be manned by our descendants."

Everyone stopped and stared, even Lili. She finally said to Major Hayes, "Are you done with your cup?"

"Huh?" He drained the dregs. "Oh, uh, yeah, here you go."

That seemed to snap the captain out of it. "I'll tell the crew. We, uh, over a century is a lot of time together. Morale will be key."

"We should revive Movie Night," Hoshi suggested.

"It should, uh," Lili interjected, "if I may, sir, it should be moved to either Friday or Saturday nights. For, uh, for Date Night."

"What if people don't want to go to a movie?" Travis asked.

"Maybe we could make other entertainments available," Hoshi offered.

"Like what?" Chef Slocum asked.

"We could take suggestions," Hoshi said, "Maybe you and Lili here could teach a cooking class. Or, or we could have a 5K race around the Gym or something."

"We'll have a Morale Committee. You can be in charge of it if you like, Hoshi," Jonathan said.

"Will you do it with me?" she asked Lili as the dishes were cleared.

"Sure. I bet Chip would do it, too. Major, would anyone from the MACOs be interested?"

"Huh. Maybe Susie Money. I'll get back to Hoshi on that."

"So we have the semblance of a plan," Jonathan said, "Dismissed."

Chef followed Lili out. "They're going to see if they can program more food varieties into the replicator. I kind of volunteered you to help with that."

"Oh. Huh, well, that's okay. I guess I'll be busy. It'll take my mind off things."

As they walked back into the kitchen, all Lili could think of was how much was suddenly on her plate. And – a generational ship! _How the heck was that gonna work?_

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal log, January fourteenth, 2154. I think._

_I have told the crew that things are, well, things aren't great. I have done that much. But that's gotta be the understatement of the century. It's more than that, and we all know it. Tomorrow, or in a few days, I suspect, I will need to make the most important speech of my career as a captain. I have no idea how I'll do. Wish me luck._

12


	2. Chapter 2 - Failed Contact

Chapter 2 – Failed Contact

Hoshi and Tripp stood to the side as Malcolm unlocked Richard Daniels' quarters. Daniels was an operative for the Temporal Integrity Commission, and had been born in 3069. No one had known that when he was first hired. Instead, he had just seemed like another fresh-faced crewman, working as a steward. He would deliver iced tea or blueberry muffins, and would help Chef with basic prep work although he did not have too much training in cooking. He wasn't trained like Lili O'Day was.

It had been a front, and he had revealed himself to Captain Archer when a Temporal Cold War began to threaten the mission.

He was the only time traveler any of them knew, and he seemed to come and go as he pleased, which almost made sense. But now they needed him.

They had sealed off his old quarters as there were all sorts of devices in there. Captain Archer had insisted on not just going in and taking things or looking at schematics or whatever else was lurking in there. Whatever the future held, he wasn't about to start looking ahead, to see what was supposed to happen, or not. It felt like cheating to him, like glancing at the final page of a book while still in its middle or fast-forwarding through a movie, impatiently surfing to the final reel. He just wouldn't allow it.

But these circumstances were different. And it was not for the purpose of cheating the natural unfolding of events. Rather, it was to make contact with, perhaps, the only person who could help them.

Malcolm took the huge lock off the door and hit a panel. The door slid open, like every other door on the _NX-01_ did. But it was what was behind the door that differed.

"I'll just, uh, I'll wait outside," he offered.

Hoshi just nodded as she and Tripp walked in. "What do you think we should look at first?" she asked.

"I dunno," Tripp said, "but, well, let's review our assignment. We are to look for some means of contacting him. And it might not look like much because the technology is different. And once we've opened or started up something, if it looks like it's not what we're lookin' for, we move on immediately."

"Got it," she said, "what's this?" she picked up what looked like a scanner.

Tripp took it from her, "Let's see what happens here." He flicked a switch. There was a faint whirring sound, but then it went dead. "Well, that's not it," he put the device back.

=/\=

In 3098, Richard Daniels was supposed to be preparing for a trip to 450 BC, in the mirror universe, but instead he was dozing off at his desk at the Temporal Integrity Commission when he was awakened by the chirp of a temporal communicator going off. He was quickly able to determine the time of origin – 2037. He was then able to triangulate to the precise location, a subspace corridor in the Delphic Expanse.

"Damn, it's the first alternate," he muttered to himself. He sighed. He wouldn't be able to do anything. "I'm sorry," he said to no one, "but you're supposed to be there. Hang in there, Jon. On balance, it'll be a good experience for you. And this is needed for the primary timeline to work. Like it or not, you're the version that's _supposed_ to be there."

=/\=

After about an hour, Tripp and Hoshi emerged from Daniels' quarters. "Anything?" Malcolm asked, ever hopeful.

Tripp just shook his head. Hoshi said, "A few of the devices seemed to fizzle a bit, but nothing seemed to do anything. I wonder if they're all broken, or at least protected somehow."

"They must be locked in some fashion," Malcolm mused as he reset the huge lock.

=/\=

"Another day, another comfort food meal," Lili mused. "We've had turkey, macaroni and cheese and we've had fried chicken. We're going to end up with a really fat crew, Will."

"Huh, that's no good," he said. He thought for a moment. "Let's clear some of these leftovers and then maybe we'll start with lighter fare tomorrow. You're right; we can't just be leaning on carbs all the time."

"Have you been listening to the crew at meals?" Lili asked.

"No more than usual."

"People are talking about all sorts of morbid things, like whether they'd be mourned by anyone, that sort of thing. It's awful," Lili said, shivering a little, despite the fact that the kitchen was warm.

"I guess it's gallows humor," Chef Slocum said, sighing, "Here, let's make a turkey soup and, uh, we'll do something with the leftover mashed potatoes."

"Got anything in mind?" she asked.

"Surprise me."

=/\=

The MACOs did their usual training. Private Chang approached Major Hayes and said, "Sir, why are we even bothering?"

"What?"

"I mean," Chang said, "it's not like nobody thinks about it, right? We don't belong here. But we've got a ship that, no matter what shape it's in, is better than anything on Earth, right? So we could go in and stop World War III, right? It's supposed to go into the 2050s! We could end it over a decade early!"

"That's not the mission," Hayes said.

"C'mon, Major!"

"No, it's not the mission," Hayes insisted, "There is a timeline. We have to keep it secure. Who the hell knows what'll happen if we go mucking around in history! You wanna take a chance that you'll never be born? Do ya? Or maybe Zefram Cochrane is never born. We can't screw with the timeline."

"But can't we go back and stop the Xindi weapon before it gets to Earth?" asked Corporal Julie McKenzie, "Wouldn't, um, wouldn't that be okay?"

"I, uh, I dunno about that," Major Hayes said, "Maybe we _should_ do that one."

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal log, January seventeenth, 2154._

_It's weird, you know. One day, we're in the Delphic Expanse, and we are doing our thing and going after the Xindi and the next thing, there's a particle wake and we're stuck in this subspace corridor, thrown back in time. 2037. I suppose I should change the date on this log entry. We don't even know which day and month it is. I guess January seventeenth is as good a date as any._

_Captain Archer says we should wait, we should hang around and see what happens as history unfolds and we are stuck here anyway, but I swear it is like being caught in a cage and I don't like cages and confinements._

_But we are here, and the Xindi are still out there, and if we can prevent them now, instead of a hundred and seventeen years from now, from taking out Earth, then we will try to do that. My MACOs will do all we can – that's our job._

_As for me, I miss Earth a bit, of course, I miss my sister but otherwise there's no one there for me. I got no girl waiting, wondering if I'm dead or anything. There's just Laura, and she's gonna do whatever she does and I guess she figures I'm dead so she'll have some sort of a ceremony. And I'm sorry about that, not only 'cause I'm not dead, of course, but also 'cause she doesn't deserve to be the last one, the remainder of our family, the leftover when you do long division and you got some extra stuff because it's not a perfect factor._

_Or, something like that. I'm no mathematician. I'm a soldier. I have been so for years. I am recently fifty-one and I have never married and so there is no girl waiting for me, not anymore, and no one to wonder or erect a monument if such a thing is a good idea and I don't even think that it is. Laura, whatever she does, it'll be quiet and then she'll go on with her life and go argue some other court case or whatever. That is assuming that the Xindi leave enough of Earth left for there to be courts and judges and lawyers._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal log, January seventeenth, 2154._

_I have been the Armory Officer on the NX-01 for three years, going on four now, and I have never seen anything like this before._

_There was a particle wake created by a Kovaalan ship's impulse manifold, and suddenly we are back nearly one hundred twenty years._

_Captain Archer is – I don't know how he is, but he seems to be withdrawing. Commander Tucker is doing all he can but he cannot fight this. Hoshi, Tripp and I went into Crewman Daniels' old quarters, to try to see if there was any sort of means of contacting him. But there was nothing, at least, nothing they could figure out how to use. And so here we are, unable to contact the only person who we know who travels in time._

'_Tis a pity, for you would think it would be a short, smooth, easy thing for a seasoned time traveler to fix. A snap of the fingers and suddenly we're back in 2154._

_Right?_

_But we're not._

_And so I have listened to my shipmates speak of death and their families and they are concerned that their loved ones must, by now, feel that they are gone. It's a parlor game, suddenly – how would you be mourned? Who would mourn you? What would they do? It's morbid, is what I think. _

_I have tried to take my charges' minds off it. Major Hayes has done the same with his people. But there are just so many drills you can do, just so many paces you can put people through. And then it comes down, again, to everyone going on and on about who would miss them._

_Madeline, she would, to be sure. She is a good, dear sister. As for our parents, well, yes. It's useless to speculate otherwise. We have had our differences and were not in touch too often. A shame, but we simply didn't get on. I am not saying that my own parents did not love me. It is not that, not that at all. Rather, it is that we didn't allow anything as silly as genetic bonds to stimulate us all to get on._

_And so we coexisted, in separate lives, and now our lives are truly, irrevocably, separate._

_I miss Mark Latrelle, although he and I have not had a chance to catch up for a while. A good friend is hard to find. I was hoping I would not have to give up that friendship quite so early in my life, but there you have it. He, I suppose, would he mourn? I can see him, arm around Madeline, telling her that I went down fighting or some such. Perhaps they will end up together. That idea makes me smile a little. Pity I can't be there to suggest it._

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, January seventeenth, 2154._

_Today I made turkey soup from the leftover turkey and there were some mashed potatoes, too, so I fried them up and made latkes. Ethan Shapiro told me that_ _he really liked them and that they were almost like his mother made, and then the poor kid just broke down and cried._

_And I felt so, so bad for him. He will never see his mother again, or his father and sister, either. He is so young, and I know it is hard for him._

_Of course I was far younger when my parents died, but it was different, for I hadn't become cut off from the rest of the human race. Here we are, off in God knows where in the Expanse, and we cannot contact Earth and risk messing up the timeline but if it were my choice I would mess with the damned timeline already. Maybe if Earth is warned, early, they – we – can turn back the Xindi even before they turn their weapon on Florida and South America. _

_But I don't make those decisions. Captain Archer does, and he's decided to keep the timeline pure. Eh, I don't make choices about timelines and he doesn't make choices on which sauces to use on the sides. Chef decides on the menu, but he gives me leeway to do the sides and all. It's good of him. He's a very nice guy. He's said to me, more than once, "Lili, we need to keep morale up. You and I are important and that is our number one job, even more important than making sure everyone's got proper nutrition."_

_I told ya Chef was nice._


	3. Chapter 3 - The Rating System

Chapter 3 – The Rating System

The MACOs were done with their workout and were relaxing. Hayes had left, as had most of the group. Only a few of the men stayed behind.

Private Chang spoke, "Yanno what I'm noticing?"

"What?" asked a MACO with an arm patch that said _B. Moreno._

"If things go the way they look like they will, it's gonna be open season on the honeys," Chang said.

"What?" asked Ryan.

"C'mon!" Chang said, warming to the subject, "this is gonna be a party ship. Girls everywhere!"

"Yeah, well, the quality varies," said Azar.

"Too true," Chang agreed, "that's why I have the Patented Chang Rating System."

"The what?" asked Kemper.

"The way I see it, there are three classes of honeys," Chang said, "One is _the hottest of the hot_. You know, the ones who get your motor runnin'? And they barely have to do anything, yanno? Gals like Crossman and Sato, yanno what I mean?"

"T'Pol, too," Azar said, "you seen the can on her?"

"I don't think we should be talking about this," said Ryan.

"Oh, c'mon! It's not like they can hear us!" Chang said, "Then there's kinda the middle ground. You know, wouldn't kick 'em out is all I'm sayin'."

"C'mon, we shouldn't be talking about this," Ryan began to insist. The Gym door swished open. It was Major Hayes, perhaps he had forgotten something. He took a look at them all sitting there and then went over to the free weights and started working out some more.

"I dunno," Brown replied, "it's not like no one's thinking it. Said or unsaid, we are still _thinking_ it."

The Gym door opened again. This time, it was one of the internal security crewmen, Brian Delacroix. Del was what, eighteen? Being short and clean-shaven didn't help – he looked about fourteen. He joined the Major and grabbed a barbell that looked bigger than he was. It all looked like a classic display of the Napoleon Complex.

"You know, and I know," Chang continued, getting back to the subject, "that the hottest of the hot, well, there's gonna be _lots_ of competition for 'em."

"T'Pol's already taken, or hadn't you noticed?" said Moreno.

"Huh, yeah, most likely," Chang allowed, "but Crossman and Sato are still up for grabs."

"There's a middle group, you said," Azar prompted, "I take it that's a much bigger group."

"Well, it sure is," Chang explained, "you know, the ones you wouldn't kick out? Like Haddon – typical middle of the roader right there. Or Pike. She's kinda hot if you don't mind nothing up here." He vaguely gestured at his own chest.

Brown added, "Christina Parsons, she's in the middle. And Nan Meyers is, too."

"McKenzie and Cole, too," Chang said.

"There's Bernstein," Moreno offered.

"Naah, she's off the table for everybody but Miller, Shapiro and Rosen," Azar said, "as for Haroun, well, Hamidi and I, we'll probably duke it out at some point."

The rest of them nodded, thinking of the only Jewish and Muslim women aboard the _Enterprise_.

"There's Sloane," Kemper suggested, "She's got no such restrictions."

"Yeah, but she's a nasty witch," Chang said, "like PMS twenty-five days outta every twenty-eight and not the other way around, am I right?" he was facing away from the free weights, not paying attention to the Major.

Ryan said, "C'mon, Dan, let's tone it down a little."

"At least Sloane would be good for, uh, a certain job," Chang said, ignoring Ryan's entreaties. "I mean, there are some who are just _dogs_. Worse than a fellow's own hand, know what I'm sayin'? It's Kelly and it's Socorro and it's Money and that, that waitress, what's her name?"

They all looked blankly at each other. "Oh-something or other," Moreno finally said.

"O'Day."

The loud tenor voice surprised them all. It was Major Hayes. Azar and Moreno fled. He glared at the remaining men.

"Sorry, sir," Ryan said, cowering a bit.

"We shouldn't have been talking this way," Kemper added, "Sorry, uh, sir."

Brown just stared back, and swallowed hard. Chang spoke. "It's not like nobody's thinking about it, right, Major? Except, maybe, not guys like you."

Ryan's eyes bugged out. _Did Chang even know what he was saying anymore? Just what was he implying about Major Hayes?_

"You wanna clarify that, _Private_?" Major Hayes said, emphasizing that last word.

Chang gave him a venomous look. "I understand they used to call it _Don't Ask, Don't Tell_."

"What does that mean?" Kemper asked, nervously looking from one angry pair of eyes to the other.

"If it comes down to it, some of us will grab Crossman or Sato by any means necessary. Others won't," Chang said.

"We'll discuss this later," Hayes said frostily, "Dismissed. Get outta here. I don't care if you still wanna work out; just go before I find something else to talk to you about."

Ryan and Kemper left together. "Well, what _does_ it mean?" Kemper asked.

"You really need to brush up on your military history," Ryan said, "DADT was an Army policy having to do with gay soldiers."

Kemper stopped walking. "What? Do you, uh, do you think Hayes really is gay?"

"I dunno," Ryan said, "I figure it's not my business. I guess I'll care more when it comes down to competing for the women. I think that'll happen at some point. And by then I think even Chang would rather get with Money or Socorro or one of those others than, well, than be alone."

=/\=

Tripp walked over to a young man scrubbing plasma conduits. "Willets?"

"Yeah?" The kid looked up from what he was doing, and then realized who was addressing him. "Yes, sir? Sorry, sir."

"It's all right. You, uh, you have more of a computers background than most of the people here in engineering."

"I do?" Willets thought for a moment. "Yeah, uh, yeah, I guess I do. Is that bad?"

"No, no, 'course not. I have what I think is gonna be a challenge."

"Oh?"

"You know how we can get chicken and potatoes outta the replicators, right?" Tucker asked.

"Of course, sir."

"I want you to figure out how to get more out of 'em."

"Like what, sir?"

"I dunno," Tripp said, "work with Ensign O'Day. The two of you'll come up with a list of foods to try to get the replicators to make. She'll check for flavor and texture, that kinda thing. Sound like an okay detail to you? You'll be on it for all of your time."

"That'll be great, sir. It sounds really interesting. Thank you, sir."

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, January nineteenth, 2154._

_Things are getting strange and I don't think it's just me noticing._

_There are fifty-eight men and thirty-four women on the ship. At least, those are the human numbers. There's also Doctor Phlox and Commander T'Pol. Oh, and Porthos and the doctor's menagerie but those don't count, at least not in the context I'm thinking of._

_Gawd, I hope the animals don't._

_Because what I'm talking about is the elephant in the room, the bit that no one is talking about but everyone is thinking about, which is that if we are here as long as we think we might be, then it'll be over a century and someone's gonna wanna get some before long._

_And the ratio is that bad, if you're a guy._

_As for me, well, it's a good news, bad news kind of a joke. The good news is, being female; I suppose I have my pick. But I don't, because I know I've gotta be the least desirable woman on board._

_I am forty-four, will turn forty-five in just over two months – older than all of the women except for T'Pol. And I am no beauty like she is. My rank is low, my status, well, nonexistent. People – read, men – are nice to me but no one seems to want to go anywhere with it. I guess I just must appear to be a drudge to them. Well, I am. Regardless of where we are, whether in this, this subspace corridor or in the Expanse or orbiting Earth, well, someone's got to serve up the stew._

_It's not like I don't think about it. Of course I do! I may be old but I am most certainly not dead. The only two confirmed couples I know about are Michael Rostov and Judy Kelly, and Commander Tucker and Commander T'Pol. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to listen to rumors, but I do like anyone else and so it's pretty obvious. I serve salad at the Captain's table and they look at each other and even though it's fleeting, I can see it._

_As for the other fifty-six guys, I am older than most of them – even the Captain, it turns out. And I suppose they look at me and figure I'm already menopausal, so if they want kids I am a dead end. But that's not true! But even if it was, I mean, at least I guess I'm a better option than no one, right? I mean, I am no virgin – I enjoy sex and romance and all of that. I just get the feeling that all the other women will be taken and then I'll have twenty-four guys all drawing straws. And whoever gets the short straw gets to brave asking me out._

_Maybe we'll just pick up some alien women, or something._

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal log, January nineteenth, 2154._

_I cannot believe my men sometimes._

_I have done everything I can to keep them disciplined, but things are breaking down a bit._

_I know they didn't mean for me to hear them, but that's no excuse. I went to the gym to work out, and there were a half a dozen of my men. It was Chang, uh, Brown, Azar, Kemper, Ryan and, um, Moreno._

_They were talking about the thing that nobody really wants to talk about, which is that we are stuck here for a while. And I think we all know where this is going. I mean, if a ship is stuck for a century, and there's no exploring that can be done, then people are gonna explore within. I don't want to be crude, but it's gonna mean relationships, probably marriages and kids. I am not the marrying kind. But I can see where this experience would be necessary. Certainly I can relate to loneliness._

_But the guys, they weren't talking about that. No. I hate to say it, but they were rating the women. And it's piggish and rude and wrong._

_They had them divided into three categories. The hottest of the hot were Hoshi Sato, Jennifer Crossman and T'Pol. Then the kind of in the middle but okay group, they were Deborah Haddon, Julie McKenzie, Amanda Cole, Christina Parsons, Nan Myers and I dunno who else. They were defined as, Chang said, he wouldn't kick any of them out of bed._

_Then in the last group were Patti Socorro, Susie Money, Judy Kelly and Lili O'Day. There might've been more. They were called, man, it was nasty! Chang said he'd prefer his own hand to any of 'em._

_That was when I'd heard enough – hell, more than enough – and I intervened. Ryan and Kemper apologized immediately and Brown looked disturbed and guilty, I think he was just giving in to peer pressure. Not good – that kid should know better. Azar and Moreno scattered; I'll have to deal with them later. _

_But Chang, man! He was completely without remorse. He told me, he said they'd all been thinking of it and it was useless to deny it and that if it came down to a fight on board that he was gonna grab Sato or Crossman by whatever means were necessary._

_He's got no rank to bust him from – I've already done that once – but I could give him a lousy detail, which I did. I told him he'll go to the kitchen and help Ensign O'Day peel potatoes for a week. If he thinks she's so ugly – and she's just older than he is. She's not necessarily ugly – well then a good punishment is for him to look at and take orders from her all day long._

_And pretty soon I'm gonna have a talk with all of the men under me. Yeesh, poor Susie Money. We are supposed to be a coherent, working unit. I can't have them snickering about her. She's a good, competent MACO, and could be an officer someday. _

_I should put her in charge of Chang and really make him squirm._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal log, January nineteenth, 2154._

_I have put the Security teams through a series of drills and their reaction times are good but could be better. The Captain supports this work but has expressed a concern that I am – how did he put it exactly? – riding the men too hard._

_Well, that's how things are done, and done properly._

_We are going to be on this ship for a long, long time. I signed on for a five-year tour and there was every indication that it would extend to ten. And that was and is fine._

_But now it's a century-long tour, but none of us will live that long except, maybe, for Commander T'Pol._

_The Captain has told me that he wants Major Hayes and me to join him for breakfast tomorrow morning. Hayes and I do not get on, and I can tell already that this breakfast will be a painful experience. It's a shame there's no news we can get from Earth. I'd even rather hear about some damned water polo match._

_I predict an incredible degree of awkwardness. I shall bring my PADD, in the hopes that, with enough clicking 'round it, I can find something to divert our attentions for at least a few nanoseconds, something beyond admiring the view outdoors or complimenting Ensign O'Day on her and Chef's cooking skills._

_I do hope we're not having anything with dairy in it._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal log, January nineteenth, 2154._

_I know I'm going to have to make the speech sooner or later. The speech about us being trapped here._

_Yeah, that one._

_I wish I knew how to begin that. Whatever I say, I am certain, will be wrong. But I'm the captain. This is why they pay me the big bucks._

_There is going to be dating. They are going to look to me for the okay. We are all adults, but this is beyond protocols and regulations._

_And there's so much that's unknown. I have two department heads who I suspect are gay men. It hasn't mattered to me before, but now it does. Anything to ease the damned ratio! If it's fifty-six men to thirty-four women, instead of fifty-eight to thirty-four, then it's still not great but at least it'd be better. I'm having breakfast with them both tomorrow. There's no good way to broach the subject. I guess my foot will go in my mouth, and more than once. I suppose I should salt my boots before I get to the Captain's Mess tomorrow morning._


	4. Chapter 4 - Parsnips

Chapter 4 - Parsnips

Lili set out toast and various jams as Captain Archer walked into his private dining area. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning. What's under the warmers?"

"Three omelets. I made you one with Swiss. Is that okay?"

"Sure. I smell sausage, too."

"Yep. It's the kind that's not too spicy."

The door swished open. It was Major Hayes and Lieutenant Reed. They both hesitated, each letting the other one walk in first, a complete and utter stalemate. Jonathan finally said, "Major, we don't have all day."

Lili smiled to herself a little bit. "I've got blueberry and strawberry jams, and orange marmalade. Plus there's butter. There are mild sausages on the side, and omelets. Cheese for the captain," she said as she served, "Mexican for Lieutenant Reed and a Western for you, Major. I do hope I guessed right."

"Yeah, this is good, thanks," Hayes replied; looking at a few sliced tomatoes that were only on his plate and then reaching for the blueberry jam.

There was a slice of avocado on Malcolm's plate that wasn't on the others'. He smiled to himself as he speared it with his fork.

"I called you both here," Jonathan began, "because it's beginning to look more and more like the _Enterprise_ is going to become a generational ship."

Lili stood at the back of the room and fiddled a bit with the coffee maker. The smell of a Sumatran blend began to permeate the air as the men ate in silence. She was bursting to talk, but it was not her place. She could not figure out why no one was commenting on such a bombshell.

She watched as Malcolm smeared orange marmalade on his toast, and Jonathan cut up a slice of cantaloupe on his plate. The others didn't have cantaloupe. Jay Hayes got up. "You need something, sir?" she asked.

"I was gonna get coffee."

"How do you take it?"

"Uh, black." He sat back down and she served him. And then she realized – he had probably not had a meal in the Captain's Mess before.

"Sir," Malcolm ventured, "you were saying earlier?"

"Yes," Jonathan nodded, "I, uh, there's the issue of the ratio. There are almost two men for every woman on board. Fifty-eight to thirty-four."

Lili brought over a hot water kettle and a selection of teas for Malcolm. He nodded his thanks to her and said, "I suppose the situation could become rather uncomfortable."

"Yes," Jonathan said, "and since both of you run departments that are mainly composed of men, I believe that morale is going to become particularly key for Tactical and the MACOs."

"I'll keep my men in line," Jay promised.

"What happens when they're off-duty?" Malcolm asked, "You can't just watch them for every moment of every single day, you know."

"We'll be fine," Jay insisted, bristling a little, remembering the incident in the gym, "how's Security gonna be? That division is nearly all male."

"We'll manage," Malcolm vowed, also getting a bit defensive.

"I was thinking," Jonathan interjected, "if there are, uh, if there are gay members of either department, or really in any of the departments, that could ease the issues with the ratio."

The three men stared at each other in silence.

"Of course," Lili interrupted, "it really throws a wrench in things if any of the women end up preferring each other." She paused, "Uh, sorry that I was eavesdropping."

"No, you've got a point there," Jonathan said, "of course no one knows any of that. And it's improper to ask."

"We won't know anything about preferences until people begin pairing up, sir," Malcolm stated.

"Morale is going to be key," Jonathan repeated, "make sure your people fully cooperate with Ensign Sato's Morale Committee. Try to, uh, try to support what they'll be doing. You can both be forces for good."

His plate was clear so Lili approached. "Can I take that, sir?"

"Sure," the captain said, "uh, Ensign?"

"Yes, sir?"

"From your perspective, this, uh, this situation has got to be, uh, interesting."

She thought for a moment. "The numbers definitely work in my favor. But I don't kid myself. I know the other women are younger and better-looking than me." She took the rest of the dirty dishes and left.

Jonathan looked at the other two men. "Before this is over, she might be fighting all three of us off. Dismissed."

=/\=

Hoshi sat at her station on the Bridge, trying to think of projects to help with morale. She had_ Movie Night; putting on a cooking demonstration; 5K race around the Gym _and_ shore leave on an unknown planet _on her list. And then she was stumped.

"Penny for your thoughts," Travis said.

"Huh? Oh, just trying to figure out what to do to keep morale up."

"Maybe we could have a chess tournament."

She nodded and added that to her list.

=/\=

Craig Willets entered the galley, a place he rarely visited. "Uh, I was told to work on the replicators?"

Chef Slocum approached him. "They're working just fine, Crewman."

"No, uh, I'm here to try to program in more choices."

"Oh, well, uh, Lili will be back soon," he went back to what he'd been doing, which was taking inventory of their supplies.

Lili came in with the cart full of dirty dishes. "Man," she said, "it's already getting uncomfortable and we haven't even had the announcement yet!" She laughed a little. "Oh, hi," she said when she saw Craig, "you lost?"

"No, ma'am. I'm, uh, I'm here to try to add to the programming for the replicators."

"Oh, yeah! How do you wanna do that?" she asked as she began to load the dishes into the sanitizer.

"I was hoping you had a plan."

"Huh. Well, uh, maybe you just try something. Just, anything. I don't care what. And we'll see how it goes. And in the meantime, Chef Slocum and I'll start to make a list, okay? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to clean up and then start peeling carrots to make cakes for tonight. I hate to put you off, but I've got to get my regular work done," she suggested, "how about we meet at maybe, I dunno, fourteen hundred hours? I should have a couple of hours then. More, if you don't mind watching me cook dinner. That okay for you?"

"Sure," Craig left.

"Well, what _should_ we put on the list?" she asked, getting out a cleaning solution and towels.

"I barely know where to begin," Will said, "Sausages? Lettuce? Pancake flour? We don't even know if any of it'll work."

=/\=

It was fourteen hundred hours, and Craig really had something. He had looked up a chemical analysis of what he wanted to make. He programmed the replicator and went through a few iterations, finally liking the flavor. Then he worked on the texture and the color. "Is this still a good time?" he asked as he entered.

"Sure," Lili said, "the cakes are being refrigerated and we're making pasta tonight, so it's easy. No worries."

"I have a surprise for you," he said, "uh, close your eyes, okay?"

"Okay," she said, a little skeptically.

He punched in a few codes on the replicator and brought a plate over. "Hold out your hand." She did so, and he put what he'd made in her hand. "Uh, taste that," he said, "please," he added.

She nibbled at it tentatively. "It's crunchy. And a little sweet. But it's not _too_ sweet. Is it a parsnip?"

"It's supposed to be a carrot."

She opened her eyes. "Can you make it less orangey? If it's kind of a grey-yellow, it could work as a parsnip. Can it be roasted?"

=/\=

Dinner was served. In the Captain's Mess, it was Jonathan, T'Pol and Tripp. Lili brought in a small plate first with a few grey-yellow julienned strips on it. "I have something new that I'd like you to try."

"Oh?" Jonathan asked.

"It's vegan," she said, gazing at T'Pol. The Vulcan didn't eat any animal products.

They all took some. Tripp asked, "What is it?" after he'd had some.

"It's roasted parsnips," Lili said.

"Parsnips?" Jonathan asked, "I don't think I've ever had them." He took a taste. "They're good. But maybe they could use a little salt."

"Commander?" Lili asked T'Pol.

She took a taste. "This is a root vegetable?"

"Yes," Lili said, "can I make them again, do you think?"

"Sure," Jonathan said.

Lili smiled and opened the door. "Come in a second, Craig."

Craig entered the room. He had never been in there before, and it was considerably more uncomfortable than the galley had been. He looked around nervously. "So, uh, did you like them?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tripp said, "somethin' you're not tellin' us, Willets?"

"They're resequenced protein, sir."

"_Really_?" Jonathan asked.

"It was our first attempt," Lili explained.

"Parsnips," Jonathan said, "whatever possessed you to start with _parsnips_?"

"Well, we were aiming for carrots, sir," Craig admitted.

"But we hit parsnips instead!" Lili enthused.

Jonathan smiled. "And you can make these again at any time?"

"Yes, sir," Craig said, "Shelby doesn't even have parsnips in the Botany Lab. This is it, if anyone wants 'em."

"Can we make them for the rest of the crew?" Lili asked.

"Sure!" Jonathan laughed, "Parsnips for my men!"

"Huzzah!" Craig cheered, and then lowered his head, feeling like he'd overdone it, particularly when he saw T'Pol raise an eyebrow at him.

"I'll add them to the rotation, sir," Lili said as she served the main course.

=/\=

When the dinner was over, she went into the main cafeteria. The MACOs were all still sitting there with Major Hayes as her roommate, Jenny Crossman, departed with the night shift Tactical Officer, Aidan MacKenzie. Most of the MACOs also got up, bused their trays and departed, leaving her with Hayes and Chang.

She took a plate of the pasta for herself and sat down at an empty table. "This seat taken?" Hayes asked.

"Of course not," she said, "If you don't mind watching me eat."

"Private Chang here," he said, "will be helping you for a week."

"Helping?"

"He'll do whatever you want him to do," Jay said.

"Oh." She twirled a bit of the pasta on her fork.

"He can start tonight, if you have something for him to do."

"The dishes need to go into the sanitizer, and then when that's done about ten minutes later, they get put away. Plus the tables need to be cleaned off and the floor gets cleaned. I also look over tomorrow's menu and figure out how the day will go."

"You heard her," Hayes commanded, "start loading the sanitizer so that she can eat her dinner," he looked at her when Chang left, "uh, let me know if he gives you a hard time at all."

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, January twentieth, 2154._

_Suddenly I have a helper. It's weird._

_He is not a terribly enthusiastic helper. But I guess I shouldn't complain. It's only for a week, anyway. I don't think the guy's got any good knife skills. I suppose I'll just lean on him for cleaning help._

_Oh! I should mention who that is, eh?_

_It's Private Chang. Now, I don't kid myself. I am well aware that soldiers, since the beginning of time, have been put on KP duty when they've been, uh, naughty. Maybe it goes back to Roman times. Can you imagine, some poor Marcus Incredibulus or whatever, being forced to make liquamen for the Emperor's troops?!_

_But I digress._

_I have no idea what Chang did wrong but, whatever it is, he is royally perturbed. I think it would be a very good idea for me to mainly keep him off knife detail. Not that he would do anything – I just know that angry people shouldn't be chopping anything._

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal log, January twentieth, 2154._

_Well, so far, so good, for Chang. I guess he'll be all right in the galley._

_There was a meeting with Captain Archer. And it was strange. I get the feeling he was trying to determine whether Reed and I are gay men. I mean, of course it's not his business, but in a way I guess it almost is, suddenly. _

_Everybody is thinking about the ratio. The number of men, and the number of women – it's a distraction already. I can't blame the captain or anyone else if they hope that someone will voluntarily bow out of the competition._

_Well, I'm out of that competition, but it's not for that reason. God knows I'm not attracted to guys. _

_It's all about Susan._

_I know it was years ago. And now, suddenly, it's years from now. And that's even stranger, but there you have it. _

_Things did not end well with her. I am, I behaved pretty badly. It's not like I was a player. I was loyal to her, and she to me. We had something that felt good, and it felt special. But then, God, how do you stay together when you're being cheated on? And how do you get past the fact that, well, she was not cheating on me with another man. Or even with another woman, for that matter._

_She was cheating on me with a bottle of synthale._

_Every night. That was her lover. And it didn't take long, it was a few months, and it just tore everything apart. And she couldn't stop, yanno? It's funny. They say you're supposed to let alcoholics hit rock bottom and then, if they survive rehab, they pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, and they go on with their lives, and they get better, right? Isn't that what's supposed to happen, right? Am I right?_

_What they don't tell you is how you, the enabler, how it's gonna make you feel. Enabler. Only for a little while, but still! _

_She would drink, I would withdraw, and she would tell me that she loved me. And me, oh God, I am such a coward. 'Cause I can dress it up and make it pretty and all of that, but I didn't just go because I didn't want to enable her anymore. I went because I was feeling trapped. And I went because I couldn't handle her drinking._

_And I left because I couldn't tell her that I loved her._

_And now it's too late._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal log, January twentieth, 2154._

_I suppose if I were a truly organized chap, I would carefully rank all of the women. I'd get myself a tote board, and I'd painstakingly score them on the basis of, well, of what, exactly? _

_Attractiveness, well, yes, to be sure. But also other things. Intelligence. Heart. Kindness. And the most important bit – whether I have any sort of a chance with, well, with any of them._

_It does not help that my own captain seems to think I prefer men._

_I don't suppose I've done enough to disabuse him or anyone else of that notion. I have remained withdrawn from most of the women here. It's that last bit, you see. I scarcely think I have a shot with any of them._

_It's not that I don't work hard._

_I work out almost every single day. I can probably bench press more than anyone but Hayes._

_Hayes._

_I get the feeling the captain was hoping that Hayes and I would, for some reason, ride off into the sunset together._

_God._

_But getting back to it all, I do work hard. I make an effort to be well-groomed and pleasant. I am as attentive as I can be. I take an interest in them, in all of them._

_Perhaps it would be best if I were to focus my attentions._

_There's that tote board idea again._

_But there is one class that I can exclude more or less immediately. I am a few months' shy of my fortieth birthday. I cannot imagine myself with any of the women who are under the age of thirty. It simply feels too wrong, like too much of a gap. _

_And blondes. That's amusing, eh? Here I am, all worried 'bout my own appearance while I almost insist on that from women. But I admit it. I do have a thing for yellow hair._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal log, January twentieth, 2154._

_I don't imagine I could be doing this any worse than I am. It was just dumb of me, but what I am supposed to do? And it's too soon. God, I am the captain, and I am supposed to be cool about these things, but the reality is I am acting like a middle schooler!_

_The decision is mine to make, and I have made it. The Enterprise is going to become a generational ship. There's no getting around it. In the meantime, though, I need to get it through my head that middle school questions like – do you like her? And do you like girls at all? – Those questions are off the table._

_And it's not like I would normally care if any of my crew members were gay. There are probably a few. Statistically speaking, that's practically a given. But right now, it looms large. Fifty-eight men and thirty-four women – so twenty-four men are going to be left out in the cold unless some of these men decide they, well, that they want to play for the other team._

_I am not one of those men and, it was foolish of me, trying to get Reed or Hayes to admit to that. It was a bad idea. I couldn't have accomplished anything with that, anyway. Yet I still danced around the subject and kinda, sorta, asked._

_We should all wear name tags or something, color-coded, and with our preferences clearly spelled out on them. Me? I am looking for a dark-haired woman. Shelby Pike? Yeah, right. She's far too young. So many of them are so young. And I can't just pull rank in this area, can I?_

=/\=

_Jennifer Crossman's Personal log, January twentieth, 2154._

_My roommate talks in her sleep. I don't mind so much – and this is not the first time I've noticed it – but the other night she was going on about guys._

_It's funny, it's even in our subconscious minds. I always thought I would meet someone special and amazing. I always thought I would have a choice. I guess we've all got to make the most of it._

_I just wish my roommate would go back to murmuring about broiling scrod in her sleep. She's the assistant to Chef and that was always kinda comforting, that I would get to bed and she'd already be asleep and I'd hear her humming some old French song or nattering on about cranberries._

_But now it's about guys. She was talking about Paul. There is no Paul on the ship. Maybe it's a guy she left behind. I don't know. She and I don't share much. I cannot imagine what it's like for people who left someone behind. Now you know you're never going to see them again. It's hard enough knowing I will not see my parents – who have not been born yet. _

_I should reach out to Lili, if she's really suffering, so much that she's dreaming about this, this Paul. I hope he knew how she felt. _

21


	5. Chapter 5 - The Altered Playbook

Chapter 5 – The Altered Playbook

"Can I talk to you?" Tripp asked T'Pol. He was a little breathless catching up to her. The Vulcan could move rather quickly if she was truly determined.

"Certainly," she replied, "we can talk during your neuropressure session."

"Uh, sure," he said. He then hastily added, "That'd be better."

=/\=

Once the entire day shift was on the Bridge, The captain looked around at their faces. Younger, like Hoshi. Older, like Reed. Inscrutable, like T'Pol. This was not going to be easy.

"Shipwide intercom, please, Hoshi," he said, "and let's record this announcement."

A few seconds passed. "Ready, sir."

"All hands, this is the captain," he said. For so long, it had been a source of pride for him to make such a statement. Now, it just served to further isolate him from the remainder of the crew. "I'm sure most of you have been speculating about this announcement. You've probably gone over, in your minds, just how I would say it. I'm sure that most of you came up with better wording than I did."

He paused to gather his thoughts. "I'm afraid I don't see a way out of this. We have tried all of the channels that we've got. We have done everything we can do. I don't believe there is a stone that has been left unturned. But of course I welcome your input. Everyone here, I am sure, has an opinion about this. And many of you have ideas. Some of those ideas may be very viable. Rank does not matter when it comes to this, so consider the suggestion box to be open when it comes to ideas about returning to 2154."

He swallowed before continuing. "But I believe that we also need to behave as if this is a permanent condition. We will determine what the exact date is, in 2037. Maybe it's January. We don't know that part yet. But we will determine the correct date, and we will begin to count our time from then. For someone like me, born in 2112," he glanced at Malcolm, remembering that his Armory Officer had been born in the same year, "well, I guess my birthdate is now forty-two years before 2037, making it 1995."

He paused, thinking the implications through. "We will need to operate under the assumption that we are now living our lives in the twenty-first century. And that has implications in terms of where we can go, what we can do, and who we can show the ship to. And who we can show ourselves to, as well."

=/\=

They listened in the cafeteria, and Lili and Will stood with everyone else, not gathering up dirty dishes or heating up more coffee.

They listened in the Gym, and the MACOs stood at attention, a perfectly disciplined fighting unit. The exercise bikes and the free weights remained untouched.

They listened in engineering, Craig Willets and Jenny Crossman and José Torres and the others, as the engines hummed and flashed behind them.

They listened in all of the corners of the ship, from Andrew Miller in the Bio Lab, to Maryam Haroun, who was alone in a hallway, to Shelby Pike in Botany.

=/\=

"And now, the really big news," Captain Archer said, "I can't tell anyone how to feel about this, or how to behave, except to treat each other with the same courtesy, decency and respect that you always have. The _Enterprise_ needs to get from today, in 2037, to what used to be what we knew of as the present time – 2154."

He thought a bit before continuing. "We are time travelers, I suppose. But the way back is considerably slower. I don't kid myself. I hope I make it back to my true birthdate, but the odds are slender. As for making it back to 2154, well, that seems impossible for all but a scant few of us."

He glanced over at T'Pol. If she remained relatively healthy, she could make it. But the odds of even Brian Delacroix – the eighteen-year-old Security crewman – getting there were virtually nonexistent. Even he would be a good one hundred and thirty-five years old by then.

"Therefore, I have decided that the _Enterprise_ is to become a generational ship. What this means to you is that the regulation forbidding romances between crew members of differing ranks has now been suspended."

He let that sink in for a moment. "What that does _not_ mean is that all common sense and decorum go out the window. Sexual harassment remains a very real offense. _No still means no_," he paused, "I, uh, I know we're all adults here. And I have little doubt that, for most of you, this moment feels rather strange and awkward. You are a smart and capable crew. We will all get through this, together. Thank you."

He motioned to Hoshi to cut the transmission. There was a _beep_ when she did so. "T'Pol," he said, "I'll be in my Ready Room."

He retreated into there, the _sanctum sanctorum_.

=/\=

In the Botany Lab, as she stood among the plants, Shelby stared into space.

In the cafeteria, Ethan Shapiro and Josh Rosen both looked at Karin Bernstein, who they had been sitting with. Uncomfortable, she looked down and at her coffee, which had gone cold.

In the Gym, Private Chang eyed Corporal Cole. She tossed her head and looked away.

In a hallway, Crewman Maryam Haroun adjusted her head scarf – a _hijab_ – a little bit and then began to cry.

=/\=

Captain Archer had been sitting in his Ready Room for maybe a minute. He was staring out the viewing portal with Porthos, his pet beagle, in his lap. There was a door chime.

"Come in," he said.

It was T'Pol. "Captain, your crew needs for you to be available."

Jonathan let the dog off his lap and said, "I guess I can't say I had to read my mail, or receive a call from Admiral Forrest, eh?"

"Correct," she replied, and then added, "the situation is, to be sure, most unsettling for all."

He thought for a second and then said, "And I can't just hide from everyone, no matter how much I want to right now."

"Your crew needs you."

"This is above and beyond what any of us thought was going to happen," he said, "no one thought they were signing on for the rest of their lives. None of us ever imagined that we'd be getting married here, having kids, growing old and dying aboard the _Enterprise_. None of this is in the playbook."

"This so-called _playbook_," she said, a little unfamiliar with the term, "it is not completely discarded. The crew still needs to be disciplined. The ship still needs to run efficiently."

"And the Xindi still need to be stopped," he said wearily, "you're right, of course."

He got up and returned to the Bridge.

=/\=

In engineering, Michael Rostov approached Judy Kelly as she stared at a panel. "Can I see you tonight?" he asked.

"Sure."

=/\=

In the cafeteria, Chef Slocum said to Lili, "Let's work on that list for Crewman Willets."

"Yes, of course."

=/\=

In the Gym, Major Hayes said, "You all heard the captain. I _expect_," he glared at Chang as he spoke, "all of you to treat one another, and the Starfleet members of this crew, with the utmost dignity and respect. _Is that clear_?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" They all thundered as one.

=/\=

Chang arrived to help prepare dinner. "Uh," Lili said, "we're making a beef stir fry tonight. Slice the vegetables on a bias, like this." She demonstrated. "I'll cut up the beef and make the sauce."

He slowly started cutting, annoyed and seemingly reluctant. Chef walked in. "Hey, what's holding up production? We need to get those veggies piled up." Lili nodded in the direction of her helper. Will approached him, and said, "I don't really give a damn what sort of a punishment this is for you. We have hungry people out there. Now, you either get cracking or I get the Major in here. Is that clear?"

"Yeah," Chang grumbled.

=/\=

Tripp and T'Pol sat in her quarters. She was performing neuropressure on him, which was a type of deep tissue massage that he had needed in order to better cope with his sister, Elizabeth's, death. She had died when the Xindi weapon, a prototype, had hit Earth and sliced a vast swath through Florida and South America.

"I have a question," he said.

"Oh?"

"You 'n me," he said, "We've been on and off. I, uh, I'd like to be back on."

"On?"

"You know. Boyfriend and girlfriend, that kinda thing. We're good together. Whaddaya say?"

"Today's announcement was somewhat disturbing."

"Yes, it was," he said, "and I don't pretend that I'm not thinkin' this, in part, due to the announcement. But, well, we like each other, a lot. Um, well, I," he began to talk faster, searching her face for any sort of a clue that she was interested in going along with his idea, "I can only speak for myself."

"You are," she said after a while, "the only logical choice."

He turned to face her, and kissed her, lingering. "I can't say it'll be perfect. After all, nothing is. But thanks for giving this a shot."

=/\=

In her quarters, Judy Kelly waited, combing and re-combing a stubborn cowlick that refused to behave. Her kinky dark brown hair was disobedient most of the time and this was, unfortunately, no exception. There was a door chime. "Come in!"

It was Michael. He was taller than her, a kind of ex-football player type, towering over her petite frame. "I, um, I wanted to ask you, uh, Judy, can we, uh?"

He stood there, hoping that she would somehow figure out what he meant.

"We've always been friends," she said, "even after people thought we were an item. But you and me, we insisted that we were just friends."

"Oh."

"But that was before," she said.

"I don't wanna just be friends," he said. "I, I know it's early. Maybe you wanna see if you have, uh, other prospects."

She came close, and kissed him. "I don't need other prospects."

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal log, January twenty-first, 2154._

_I find myself drifting away from the crew. _

_I am their captain but I need some alone time as well. Yet there are no such luxuries for me. In a way, I wish I were as low on the totem pole as Delacroix or Willets or one of those others. But I'm not. So I have to be up, and available and, it seems, always on._

_It's exhausting, and we are only on our first day in the new regime. We are a generational ship now. The stars have not blinked out, and the nacelles have not exploded, yet something more profound has happened, inside me, and perhaps inside the others as well._

_This is uncharted territory, and I hate being lost._

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, January twenty-first, 2154._

_Private Chang is not terribly helpful. It was all Will and I could do to get him to slice the veggies up for tonight's stir fry! That is not good. I have another, what, five days with him. God._

_In the meantime, the announcement was made. We are now a generational ship. I know I've got sex on the brain. Last night I had particularly vivid dreams about Paul Mayer. Back in High School, we lost our virginity to each other. God knows I don't miss him or mourn his loss as some amazing lover or any such nonsense like that. I imagine I was dreaming about him more in the context of being a lost, past opportunity._

_Now I look at the guys as I walk in the hallways and – egad – I am starting to think about what they're all like in bed. Even the ones where it's wholly impossible or inappropriate, guys like Tucker, who I know is not available, or Reed and Hayes, who I figure don't play on that team, and Delacroix, even though I am easily old enough to be that boy's mother._

_I never thought I'd become a cougar. _

_Of course, well, I'm really not. It's more that, I suppose, I'm reviewing all of the possibilities in my head. The truth is that I am over forty, and so guys under the age of thirty are probably, heh, they'd probably wear me out. And they'd be disappointed in me. I can't exactly do it all night or anything. I've gotten to the point where I need beauty sleep and all._

_I also never really thought through the idea of having children before. But I guess it's not an option for us gals. If we can, we're going to have to, preferences and wants be damned, eh? I am all right with motherhood. I had, for so long, felt that I'd be alone, that I kinda resigned myself to that. But things are changing. Maybe I won't be alone._

=/\=

_Maryam Haroun's Personal log, January twenty-first, 2154._

_I wish my parents were here. They would know what to do. They __had ideas for who they would arrange for me to marry, I am sure. It would have been a man who was pious, and all of the other usual requirements, like a __halal income, sufficient to support our household; ability to make mature judgments; a forgiving nature, tolerance, an even temper; being from a decent stable family, and with a good appearance and bodily cleanliness. And I would be a good Muslim wife, with the counterparts to those requirements. We would wed in the faith; he would give me dower, and all of that. It's not easy in Starfleet, but it's not impossible. _

_But now I just don't know._

_There are but two men of the faith here – Azar Hamidi and Ramih Azar. Yes, it's true; one's first name is the same as the other's surname. _

_I looked up the meanings of their names. I suppose I am grasping at straws, looking for any sort of an omen. Ramih means the star Arcturus. And Hamidi means praiseworthy. And Azar, the name that they share, means most shining or luminous. I don't know what it all means to me, if anything. Probably nothing – I do this more to pass the time and give myself something to understand, for the remainder is so very confusing._

_My roommate is Tracey Carter. She is in engineering, so we don't even have work to talk about. Of course that is as much as I have to speak with the two Azars about – Hamidi is in Security, and Ramih is a MACO. No Muslim men in Navigation! I will pray for guidance._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal log, January twenty-first, 2154._

_The announcement has been made and, already, I can see people beginning to look at one another. And my thoughts return to my mythological tote board. And so here I am, thinking about the blonde women on the NX-01. They are, now let's see if I can name them all in one shot – there's Karin Bernstein, Lili O'Day, Deborah Haddon, Diana Jones, Patti Socorro, Mara Brodsky, Julie McKenzie, T'Pol and that may be it._

_Miss Bernstein is out of the question unless I convert, I suppose. I'd be all right with keeping kosher, as I could get out of eating dairy foods. Lactose intolerance is truly not something I'd like to foist on anyone, except the Xindi. Then again, I'd be shut out of eating sausages and bacon. Back to the drawing board I suppose – plus she is too young. T'Pol is quite nice but I do believe she is spoken for._

_There are so few choices. It's rather depressing, like being told there's an all-you-can eat buffet yet all that's available is the tasteless overcooked green beans my mother used to make._

_Oh, to be in England, where there are choices!_

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal log, January twenty-first, 2154._

_So far, I think things are going okay. Food Service hasn't said anything about Chang, so I'll operate under the assumption that he's working out somewhat. I do hope he comes out of the experience understanding a bit more about just how insulting he was to Ensign O'Day and the others._

_As for Moreno and Azar, I am thinking of suitable punishments for them. They may, too, take their turns with the rags and the big knives. I dunno. Susie Money will get a turn at taking command, too, so I can fob them off on her and see how they feel when she tells them to drop and give her twenty._

_Or maybe I won't do that to Susie._

_And that reminds me, of course, of Susan Cheshire, even though Susie looks nothing like her. The only women here who even superficially resemble Susan are Shelby Pike, Sophie Creighton and Judy Kelly. I remember her skin very fondly. I suppose that's a strange thing to say, but it's true. It was just this amazing shade, like mahogany, and it was soft and she used some sort of stuff that smelled great. _

_It was years ago. I was in my thirties. Even if I could get back there, to Titania, I'm sure Susan moved on a long, long time ago. It's been a good fifteen years already._

_Yeah, she probably moved on._

_So why can't I?_


	6. Chapter 6 - Contact and Crab Cakes

Chapter 6 – Contact and Crab Cakes

They sat at their stations on the Bridge, all of them, even Tripp Tucker, who was usually in Engineering, but at that moment Jenny Crossman was watching the big machines.

Hoshi had been able to triangulate, bouncing a signal off a newly-deployed communications buoy. There was static on the line, but at least there was sound. "Just a second," she clicked various keys at her station, "_Et voila_!"

With a little bit of snow on the screen, the transmission could be clearly seen. It was a human woman. "And we're live from the New United Nations," she began, "I'm Martha Fernandes with the latest. Today, representatives of the NUN reiterated that, quote, '_no Earth citizen can be made to answer for the crimes of their race or their forebears_', end quote. This progressive statement was mocked by a Corporal Phillip Green, who was able to interfere with the NUN's transmission. Here is Corporal Green's statement in its entirety."

The scene shifted to a young man in a military uniform, who said, "The New United Nations is a cruel joke on those of us who are out here in the trenches. Talking peace is ludicrous in this day and age! Men don't talk peace unless they're ready to back it up with war. This is not a time for timidity and second guessing. We cannot afford to doubt ourselves. Are you with me?"

There were cheering assents in the background. The screen returned to Martha Fernandes's face. "Green is new to the political scene, and we don't have a lot of information on him yet. Still, …."

The screen went dark. "Hoshi?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know," she said, "we seem to be working just fine, so I'm guessing it's them." Tripp came over to see if he could help her restore the broadcast.

"Is that Corporal Green the guy who became Colonel Green?" Travis asked.

"Possibly," Tripp said as he and Hoshi worked, "ya gotta figure he started out somewhere."

"Keep trying," Jonathan commanded Hoshi, "and record whatever you get. Also, try Vulcan and Denobulan transmissions."

"Aye, sir."

"It's rather odd, getting the news from a century ago," Malcolm observed.

"What do you intend to do with this information?" T'Pol asked.

Jonathan was about to answer when Hoshi interjected. "_Captain_!"

"What is it?"

"We're being hailed."

The captain looked at the faces of the Bridge crew. They had not planned for this. "Got any ideas as to what to do?"

"Uh, answer 'em," Tripp suggested, "and, uh, we'll hope for the best."

The vessel was Xyrillian. "I am Tre'ex," said its captain.

"My name's Jonathan Archer," was the cautious response.

"Are you working with the Imvari?" asked Tre'ex.

"That's a species we don't know."

"Then I suppose that's a negative," Tre'ex said, "They occasionally patrol the area, and can be difficult. They have captured a number of Ikaaran males for the Orion Slave Syndicate."

"Oh, uh, thank you for the warning. We, uh, we may be interested in establishing trade with you," the captain said, glancing over at Tripp.

"We may have mutual interests," replied the Xyrillian, "What are your specifications?"

"Commander Tucker?" Archer asked.

"Uh, this is kinda unexpected," Tripp said, "can we iron out the details with you in, I dunno, a few hours?"

"By all means," replied Tre'ex, "we can speak again later."

Communications cut, Jonathan glanced around the room anxiously. "Did we just destroy the timeline?"

"The ship would no longer exist," T'Pol stated.

"We can't simply blunder about, hoping that we won't destroy the timeline," Malcolm stated the obvious for all of them.

"No, of course not," the captain said, "we need to be better prepared, and know what to say. Because this is going to happen over and over again, over the course of the century. We'll get together a plan. In the meantime, consider if there is anything you need or you may need, all right?" he said to Tripp, "Let's not squander this opportunity."

=/\=

Lili and Will sat in the kitchen. Chang was there, emptying the sanitizer. "You can take a break," she said to him. His uniform patch said _D. Chang_. "What's your first name?"

"Huh?"

"Don't tell me you don't know it," she laughed.

"Oh, uh, it's Dan."

"Well, hiya, Dan," Lili said, "Yanno, we just don't know most of the folks in the MACOs at all. I think the only first names of the enlisted folks I know are Susie Money and, now, yours."

"There's too much separation," Will agreed, "but I suppose that's the fault of both sides. Tell you what; we're trying to make the list of the foods that Craig Willets will try to program into the replicators. Can you think of anything?"

Dan thought for a moment. "Uh, I wouldn't know where to begin."

"Let's try this instead," Lili suggested, "what's your favorite restaurant meal? And I'm asking about a restaurant meal because homemade foods are fraught with a lot of meaning. So let's look at something that doesn't really have any psychological baggage."

He thought again. "Uh, crab cakes, I guess."

"Now, let's consider what's in them," Will typed on his PADD. Lili also typed. "There's lump crab meat, of course. There's usually mayo in there, breadcrumbs and lemon juice, sometimes parsley or finely chopped celery to give it some color and texture. There might be chopped onions or scallions, too."

"Then the spices vary depending upon the recipe," Lili explained, "any idea what spices are in the version that you like the best of all?"

"Salt and pepper, I guess."

"There's usually also egg, to keep everything together," Will added, "Paprika? Garlic? Dry mustard powder?"

"I dunno."

"And it might not be regular breadcrumbs," Lili noted, "It might be Panko or even cracker crumbs, or something like that."

"They have to be fried, too, so there's also oil or butter. And we haven't even gotten to the sides yet!" Will said.

"I guess it's complicated." Dan shrugged.

"Consider the ingredients," Lili said, "and we'll keep the recipe really simple. So it's lump crab meat, egg, salt and pepper, breadcrumbs and mayo."

"Don't forget the oil," Will reminded her.

"Right, and the breadcrumbs are bread, of course, so they consist of, let's see, milk, butter or oleo, yeast, sugar or honey, flour, salt and more egg. The flour is wheat, but it could be barley or rye or corn, or it could be mixed grains."

"And the mayo is egg, oil and vinegar or lemon juice," Will stated, "Let's say lemon juice so that we have the juice for the crab cakes. How many ingredients are we up to, Lili?"

"When we break everything down," she said, checking a list she'd tapped out on her PADD, "it's, uh, ten. The salt, oil and egg are doubled up. The other seven are wheat, yeast, sugar, milk, crab meat, lemon juice and pepper. The, uh, butter is a version of the milk, of course."

"But you should be able to get the replicator to just make mayo, right?" Dan asked.

"We could," Will conceded, "but we still need to be able to make eggs and oil."

"Right now," Lili said, "the only ingredients we can reproduce are yeast, salt, sugar, milk, butter and lemon juice – and that's only because Shelby grows some lemons. But all of that other stuff – the oil, the egg, the wheat, the pepper and the star ingredient, the crab meat – as of today, _none_ of that is reproducible."

"But you could just have the replicator make crab cakes, right?" Dan tried again.

"If we did that," Will said, "that would be all we could get. But if we make the components, then the replicator becomes a lot more versatile. I say we put oil, eggs, wheat and pepper on the wish list."

"So, no crab meat?" asked Dan.

"Not as a priority, sorry," Lili said, "Maybe if Craig gets into a groove, but no sooner."

"Oh." 

=/\=

The Bridge crew hastily met, still on the Bridge. "All right," Captain Archer said, "we need a plan for dealing with today. T'Pol and I will come up with a long-term solution, but we need to be able to handle Tre'ex in a few hours."

"He shouldn't come here," Hoshi suggested, "he'd see too many of us."

"And he would see our technology," T'Pol stated, "There are no temporal contamination issues with any member of our crew going to the Xyrillin ship, however."

"Don't shake hands with any females, Cap'n," Tripp said, smiling a little, remembering. Very casual contact, a few years ago, had resulted in a rather unexpected complication – he had become pregnant. He thought of Ah'len for a second. She had not been born yet, he was sure of that.

"Got it," Archer said, "Other thoughts?"

"I suppose the fewer persons in contact with the Xyrillians, the better," Malcolm said.

"Vulcans have had contact with this species already, so I could go to the Xyrillian vessel with Mister Tucker," T'Pol offered.

"Then let's do that," the captain said, "It will be the three of us, and we won't volunteer any information. We're an exploration vessel. That much, well, it was originally the case, to be sure. We won't dawdle. Dismissed."

=/\=

The visit to the Xyrillian vessel was easier and quicker than the captain had feared. They asked few questions, and were pleasant people, as easy to work with as they had been during the _NX-01_'s correct time period.

They got their plasma conduits and got out. "Well, that went pretty well," Jonathan said. "I, uh, I hope it won't contaminate things too badly if we rely on them more. We don't have a lot of friends out here. We sure could use some."

=/\=

_Daniel Chang's Personal log, January twenty-second, 2154._

_Life is so unfair._

_All I did was talk a little about the women. That was it! I swear! And the Major got all hot under the collar and banished me to stupid KP duty. _

_I am stuck for a week! And it is so unbelievably boring, like you would not, well, believe._

_Those people cannot stop talking about food. We spent over an hour going over freakin' crab cakes. _

_Crab cakes! _

_Shoot me now._

=/\=

_T'Pol's Personal log, January twenty-second, 2154._

_We had a successful contact with a Xyrillian vessel today. While that is an accomplishment, I am concerned that the Captain is not thinking these encounters through._

_There was no preparation. It is my job as First Officer to assure that such contacts go smoothly. While this one was accomplished without incident, advance work would be advisable._

_There are concerns about temporal contamination, and these concerns should be taken as seriously as any and all concerns about cultural contamination. Next time, the Enterprise might not meet such a friendly species, or the species might not have already encountered Vulcans. Or, perhaps, too much information will simply slip out._

_That cannot be allowed._

=/\=

_Phlox's Personal log, January twenty-second, 2154._

_As the ship's physician, I am tasked with maintaining the crew's health and well-being, of course. That includes mental health. So far, I have not been approached about the changeover to a generational ship. However, I suspect that the visits and approaches will begin soon enough._

_While I am prepared to help the crew, I need to, also, concern myself with my own state of mind. There are so many loved ones who I will never see again. It's funny. We should be able to visit Denobula, as my home planet has Warp Drive and has encountered Vulcans already. I could go to my city, if I so chose, although I am sure it will not look the same. And it will not feel the same, either, as Feezal and the others will not be there, of course._

_I will be there to help the crew, but I also need help for myself, and I have no idea where I could find it, or who I could turn to._

_What is it that they say?_

_It's an old human biblical quotation._

_Physician, heal thyself._


	7. Chapter 7 - The Rules

Chapter 7 – The Rules

The Executive Staff met in the main conference room a few days later. Captain Archer spoke, "We had a pretty good meeting with the Xyrillians, but we need to be better prepared, because it's inevitable that there will be a next time. We need to be ready, and there needs to be less improvisation."

"To that end," T'Pol added, "we have drawn up some rules for contact. Our first rule is that we will not seek out contact unless absolutely necessary. The second is that, unless circumstances absolutely dictate it, we will not allow any visitors on board the ship."

"What kind of circumstances would constitute an exception?" Travis asked.

"A ship that was in the process of self-destructing, perhaps," T'Pol speculated, "or there may be a pitched battle where an evacuation would be needed."

"We'll take things as they come," Archer noted, "but the idea is to not be just inviting everyone and his brother over to see the ship. The third rule," he said, "is that it will be easier if we limit our contacts to species that have already had contacts with either Vulcan or Denobula. We realize that we can't always be so choosy but, when we can have our druthers, we will take those species over others."

"Our fourth rule," T'Pol said, "is to become as independent as possible. That way, we can avoid some contacts."

"But the corollary to that rule is what we did today," the captain added, "a contact was made, and we took advantage of the opportunity and did some trading. If we are making contact anyway, we should be doing everything within our power to maximize those contacts."

"We won't always be able to get what we need, I'm figuring," Hoshi opined.

"Well, no," Jonathan admitted, "this won't be a department store. We're going to need to be flexible."

"Our fifth and final rule," T'Pol said, "is that we will not lie about who we are, or which species built this vessel or the like. We will not paint over the name of the ship on the hull. However, we will not volunteer any unasked-for information."

"Sounds like the kind of advice one would get from a solicitor," Malcolm mused.

"Well, at least it'll all hold up in court," Tripp said, smiling.

=/\=

A few hours later, T'Pol sat staring at the screen at her station. The calculations seemed good. She could confidently go to the captain with the information. She clicked open her communicator. "Captain, I have something."

"Meet me in my Ready Room," replied the captain.

It was after shift, so the night shift was on duty. Aidan MacKenzie sat in Malcolm's spot, while Chris Harris piloted. Chip Masterson sat at communications and Hoshi looked over his shoulder. "Now, what would you do next?" she asked him.

"Uh, modulate the frequency?" he asked.

"Right," she said, "and then you can eliminate a lot of the static we were getting from the Earth broadcast. Oh, hi, Captain."

"Cross-training, I see," Archer observed.

"Yes, uh, well, as you know, Chip works in Security, but I was thinking, maybe we'll need someone to handle Communications much more regularly now," Hoshi explained, "I mean, if we need to be careful about what we say to any other ships in the area, I think we can't just be working with whoever is on duty on the Bridge."

"That seems wise. Ensign," Captain Archer turned to Chip, "you volunteered?"

"Well, she approached me, sir," he admitted, "but how could I say no?" he paused for a second and then added, "I worked it out with Lieutenant Reed, and he was okay with it. I, uh, I hope you don't mind, sir."

"Not at all," Archer said, "I think we'll need to cross-train a lot more people before this is over. Uh, as you were."

He entered the Ready Room and T'Pol followed after him. "Well?" he asked.

"I was able to extrapolate from the information we obtained from the Xyrillians," she said, "they put a date on the receipt from our trading session the other day. They calculate their years from the founding of their republic, and then the days are calculated from the first appearance of their larger moon in the night sky, during its synodic period, after the first solstice of the year."

"Uh, what is that in English?"

"The first day of their year is not unlike if you were to measure January first during the first quarter-moon seen after the summer solstice."

"So the first of their year is what we would probably call about June twenty-fifth or so?"

"Approximately," she said, "and the length of a standard Xyrillian year is close to a standard Earth year, at about three hundred and forty-seven days although they, too, end up with accumulated hours and compensate for the discrepancy by using leap days. However, their leap years do not occur every four years. Rather, they occur every six or seven, depending upon a somewhat complicated formula."

"So do we know what month and day it is in 2037?" he asked, hoping it was some time in December. _Come on, December!_

"To a degree of accuracy of plus or minus one percent, I have calculated that today's date is April the nineteenth of 2037."

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal log, January twenty-fifth, 2154._

_No, wait, scratch that, I should start using the right date. We all should. It's April nineteenth of 2037. _

_I have not told the crew yet. I feel it hitting me like a metric ton of bricks and I'm sure they will feel it, too. So, tomorrow, I will tell them tomorrow, when we're rested and more or less ready. No sense in waking people out of a sound sleep for this, or just leaving messages for most of them._

_And it is, most definitely, hitting me hard. I would have given almost anything for it to have been New Year's Eve. That would have been a small comfort, I suppose, as we would have been, at least, a little closer._

_Oh, who am I kidding? It's not like it matters so much. It's almost like walking three feet in a northerly direction, from, say, Iowa, when traveling to the North Pole. Sure, you're closer. But in the grand scheme of things, it's pretty damned small._

_What I need is, well, I need some good news for the crew. I'm going to push Ensign Sato to have her committee meet. We had talked about it, and it's been formed, but they haven't gotten their act in gear enough to actually meet. That's got to change, starting now._

_Good news. We all need some good news. _

=/\=

_Chandler Masterson's Personal log, January twenty-fifth, 2154._

_I kinda like training to be in Communications. I bet, if my folks could see me now, they'd say – Chandler, what the hell took you so long?_

_See, I'm a natural gabber. I am the person who stands up in front of everyone on Movie Night and tells them a bit about the picture. I've got all sorts of info, and a lot of it is right in the old Masterson noggin. _

_Ensign Sato also approached me about her Morale Committee. And I'm fine with doing that, too. I need to keep busy. I am not in denial about my looks, or anything. I know that a lotta guys – like my roommate Aidan, for one – are way better-looking than I am. Competition is gonna be fierce. So my angle is, I figure, that I'm more, kinda, artistic than the others. I don't draw or sing or whatever, but I can appreciate the arts, maybe more than the others. _

_I'll see if I can talk to Deb Haddon or Christina Parsons or Kate Shelton, and soon. Actually, I'm gonna be sweet, friendly Chip Masterson to all of 'em. And they will, well; I just need one of 'em to succumb to my charms, such as they are. _

_I am, I think I got a lot to offer someone. I love women, and I love kids. I just don't wanna be alone._

=/\=

_José Torres's Personal log, January twenty-fifth, 2154._

_I'm gonna ask Jenny Crossman out. I've always liked her. I see her in engineering, and we work side by side, and she smells good, and she's so pretty. I know a lotta other guys think she's hot, too. And I won't deny that her looks are like a magnetic, just reeling me in._

_And I bet she'll just say, "José, I only like you as a friend." Well, maybe she will, and maybe she won't. _

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained._


	8. Chapter 8 - April 20, 2037

Chapter 8 – April 20, 2037

"All hands this is the Captain," came the announcement on the intercom speaker in the galley, "Commander T'Pol has calculated, she feels, the correct current day, to an accuracy of plus or minus one percent. Of course, everyone is welcome to perform their own calculations. But I think we can go with this date. So I can tell you now that the current date is April twentieth of 2037."

Lili sat down abruptly and grabbed for a handkerchief. Somehow, it was suddenly considerably more real.

"I know," continued Captain Archer, "that you will have questions, and that this may trigger a flood of emotions. I wish I could say I was immune to that, but I'm afraid I'm not. Thank you all, again, and as always. We are going to get through this. Archer out."

"Lili," Will said, "I think you missed your birthday."

"Huh?"

"Your birthday. Isn't it early in the year?" he asked as Dan Chang walked in.

"Yeah, it's March the twenty-seventh," she said absently, "I suppose I am suddenly forty-five. Uh, hi, Dan," she said, distracted.

"Oh, uh, hi, what's there to do?"

"Slice mushrooms, pepperoni and peppers, and then grate mozzarella for tonight's pizza," Will said. He was about to go back to what he was doing, but caught himself. "Lili, are you all right?"

"Uh," she was about to put on a brave face, but couldn't. "No," she said, a bit tearily.

"It's not like yesterday's any different from today," Dan muttered as he took a cutting board from the set and then grabbed a French knife.

She just sat there, a little numb. "I, I know that," she finally ventured.

"It's that it's finally sinking in, right?" Will asked.

She nodded, so Will added, "And I guess you must be thinking about who you left behind."

"But that's just it," she gasped a little as she wiped her eyes, "I didn't."

"Didn't?" Will asked.

Dan snorted a little and started slicing pepperoni.

"I didn't leave anybody," she said.

"Did you leave someone, Dan?" Will asked.

"Look, it's my last day here," Dan said, "Can't I just do what I'm supposed to, and then get out?"

Will looked as if Dan had struck him. "Now you wait just a cotton-pickin' minute! For the most part, you've done nothing but act like a spoiled brat! It makes me wonder how or why they even bothered to take you in the MACOs!"

"Will, don't," Lili said, "I can, uh, I can see where it might be boring for Dan. Uh, not so thick."

"What?" Dan asked, distracted.

"Slice the pepperoni thinner," she said, or else the pizza will take forever to cook."

"Oh."

"When is your birthday?" she asked him.

"My what?"

"That's better," she said, indicating the pepperoni. "Your birthday, Private Chang? When is it?"

"Uh, April fifteenth, 2120."

"So you were supposed to turn thirty-four, right?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"So you missed it," she said, "and I missed mine, too, and I bet a few other people did. Maybe even a good fifth of the crew."

"I can see the wheels turning, O'Day," Will said, "What do you have in mind?"

"We need a big birthday party," she said, "With, uh, stupid hats and music and drinks and cake and even really dumb stuff like _Pin the tail on the donkey_."

"Maybe do the pinning _before_ the drinks come out," Will said.

"You should never drink and pin," she said.

There was a _ding_.

"It's not my PADD," Will said.

Lili checked. "Ah, it's me. I've got a Morale Committee meeting tonight, right after dinner."

=/\=

José Torres stood next to Jenny Crossman. This was nothing new. He _always _stood next to Jennifer when they were on duty in engineering.

He was not a terribly good-looking man. The main thing he had going for him was height – he was the tallest person on the ship, and had played center on the basketball team at William & Mary, back in the day.

Jennifer was one of the most – if not _the_ most – beautiful women on the ship, with beguiling hazel eyes and fiery, coppery red hair. She was totally out of his league.

"Uh," he began, "I'm getting, uh, hot readings here."

"Really?" she asked, checking instruments, "I don't see anything."

"I should, uh, rephrase that," he said, "I'm, uh, not talking about any instruments."

"Huh?" she asked, not following him.

He took a deep breath, and said it all in one quick shot. "Jenny, are you free tonight?"

She looked at him for a moment. "It's, um, it's too soon. I'm sorry."

"That's, uh, that's okay." _Damn_.

=/\=

In the gym, the MACOs worked out, under Major Hayes's watchful eye, "Chang will be back full-time tomorrow," he said, "Remember, I don't want to see any more horsing around."

Azar and Moreno looked at each other. "Major," Azar ventured, "people are gonna have to blow off steam somehow."

Hayes thought for a moment. "I, I realize that," he finally said, "but not at the expense of respecting one another. I trust I make myself clear."

"Yes, sir," Azar said.

"All right," Hayes said, "Let's do drill number seven."

=/\=

Shelby stared at the inventory for a while, willing it to turn out differently, but it failed to respond to her silent entreaties. She was alone in the Botany Lab, but that was a normal state of affairs. There was a door chime, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Uh, come in!" Her voice was a bit shriller than usual.

It was Andy Miller, who worked next door, in the Biology Lab. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, just, uh, woolgathering, I guess. What's up?"

"I didn't really have what to do. Do you, uh, need any help with the inventory?"

"I've finished it," she said. He was about to leave, so she hastily added, "Some of it isn't very good news."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. See, I can grow a lot of different things in the pods," she gestured at clear plastic pods that were of one uniform size, about a meter and a half high and a circumference of a little over a meter, "I can make any sort of a climate that a plant needs, like a rice paddy in China, or a cranberry bog on Cape Cod, you name it."

"That's great," he said, "but you said that you've got some sort of a problem just the same."

"Well, I've got an issue with space," she said, "see, trees need to be able to grow tall, so I'm limited by the height of the pods, or the ceiling if I make some adjustments. And grain crops need to spread outward. I just don't get a lot of grain yield in a pod."

"Can't you just add more pods?"

"Space constraints, remember?" she said, "And grain crops – despite agricultural advances – still don't give a lot of yield per plant."

"What are you getting at?" he asked.

"I can't grow wheat – not enough of it to really be useful – without just having it take over the lab," she said, sighing, "and the same is true for every other grain crop. And trees can't grow right, so they're stunted, and they don't give a good yield."

"What exactly do you need to grow on trees, Shelby?"

"Andrew, almost every kind of fruit and nut grows on a tree."

"Oh, man, that stinks."

=/\=

They lined up for pizza, like they always did. "We also have three vegan pies," Lili said, "They've got vegetables and two of them have extra spice. One is plain." She was serving the vegan food while Chang served up the regular pizza slices. "Commander?" she asked T'Pol.

"Yes, two pieces of the plain."

"You got it."

Shelby and a few of the other women took slices from Lili. She spent the remainder of her time helping Chang with the regular pies when Lieutenant Reed came over.

"Trying the vegan. sir?" she asked.

"Uh, yes, the spicy kind, please."

Quietly, she asked him, "Are you allergic to milk?"

"I'd rather not discuss it."

"Oh, sorry," she said, "do you, uh, want something to top that? Pepperoni, maybe?"

He nodded and she disappeared into the back. Doctor Phlox came over while she was gone. "I didn't know you were embracing veganism!" he thundered.

"Uh …"

Lili brought over a small plate of sliced pepperoni.

"Oh, it's for," Phlox began, but Malcolm shot him a look, "understood," the Denobulan said, backing off, "extra cheese, please." Dan plunked two slices onto the doctor's plate.

"Thank you," Malcolm quietly said to Lili.

"I won't say anything," she said, "you can count on me."

=/\=

The committee meeting was held in the cafeteria. Lili had finished wiping down the tables and sent Dan on his way as the sanitizer chugged and cleaned the dishes.

Hoshi sat at the head of a small table with Chip Masterson and Susie Money, from the MACOs. Hoshi spoke, "Captain Archer says we need to get started. I thought we'd begin by brainstorming some ideas for things we could do. Any idea is good, no matter how farfetched."

"Well," Chip said, "we already do Movie Night, but what about if we attached it to some sort of a theme?"

"Theme?" Hoshi asked.

"Let's say we do a horror theme. I show, I dunno, I show _The Mummy_ with Boris Karloff."

Susie said, "What about _Dracula_? And then people could read the book, too?"

"I don't know that Chef knows any Transylvanian recipes." Lili said, "That's Romanian, right? But maybe we can make Hungarian Goulash and just kinda fake it."

"That's an idea," Hoshi said.

"Actually," Lili said, "I think a bunch of people lost their birthdays with the calendar shift. I was thinking we could have a big birthday party."

"Maybe call it a holiday party," Hoshi said, "in case anyone's bothered by thinking of their birthday and, well, you know." They all nodded, it was the elephant in the room, pretending, suddenly, that one had been born over a century before the actual date, and then counting an age from them. It could prove to be a painful reminder of their predicament.

"What's a holiday that would work for this time of year?" Susie asked.

They all thought for a moment. Chip broke the silence. "Oh, I know the holiday! And this could really work! I even know what movie to show!"

"Wanna share, Masterson?" Hoshi asked.

"Mardi Gras."

=/\=

_José Torres's Personal log, __April twentieth 2037, used to be 2154_

_Well, I struck out. I didn't really think I had that much of a chance, but you never know unless you ask, right?_

_So, Jenny doesn't wanna go out with me. I'm okay with that. I'll try Hoshi next._

=/\=

_Hoshi Sato's Personal log, __April twentieth 2037_

_We had a good meeting today. There were a lot of ideas kicked around. Most were okay, but there's one I really love. Now to run the idea of Mardi Gras by Captain Archer. I'll assure him that we won't do any bead-trading or anything like that._

_In other news, I'm thinking of asking Miller out. I wonder if he'd date a non-Jew. I think he's half that and something else. Catholic, maybe? Maybe he would go for a lapsed Buddhist like me._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal log, __April twentieth 2037_

_I'm thinking of having the crew cross-train as much as possible. We just can't pick up replacements, not anymore. We will need for everyone to have basic piloting skills. They have to be able to fire a phase pistol and at least hit the broad side of a barn. They have to be able to purge an intake manifold if that's needed._

_There are some people on board who could use the training. For example, there's the sous-chef. Chef and I hired her when the Xindi War started – he needed help in the kitchen and we had to consolidate the steward jobs and the assistants' jobs. She owned her own restaurant, and Chef Slocum didn't even tell me he was thinking of hiring her. He just asked me to go to dinner with him at this place he'd found in San Mateo, called Voracious. I remember she made this great salad._

_But we hired her and she didn't receive any real Starfleet training. I doubt she can pilot a shuttle._

_Then there are the MACOs. They were brought in, of course, to defend the ship and to go on missions, but they probably don't know the first thing about the engines. And what will we do if Shelby Pike suddenly can't do her job anymore? I'll ask T'Pol to recommend a few people from the Science Department to work with Shelby and learn more about the food plants._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal log, __April twentieth 2037_

_I confess I should be more patient. I know this for a fact. Yet I cannot help feeling a bit cross about the doctor. Isn't there such a thing as bloody physician-patient confidentiality anymore?_

_Yet there we were, right in the middle of the cafeteria, and he almost shared with all and sundry that I've got lactose intolerance._

_It's embarrassing, is what it is. I think that sous-chef; I think she has an idea. She was curious, and I put her off. But she offered me some extra, some pepperoni. I realize she means well. I just don't want anyone to know about my damnable condition. It's not something you speak of in polite company. _

_What have you got? Oh, I've got gastrointestinal distress every time I eat a slice of pizza or a dish of ice cream, or have more than a biscuit or two! _

_Oh, and how does that manifest itself?_

_God, does anyone really wish to know that?_

=/\=

_Susie Money's Personal log, __April twentieth 2037_

_We had a good committee meeting. I never really spoke with a lot of the non-MACO crew members before. But everyone is really nice. Tomorrow, Major Hayes says I'll be running the drills. I think I'll have everyone do Maneuver number six._


	9. Chapter 9 - Mardi Gras

Chapter 9 – Mardi Gras

_My grandma and your grandma_

_Sitting by the fire_

_My grandma says to your grandma_

"_I'm gonna set your flag on fire"_

The music spread through the _NX-01_. On the Bridge, T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "I never shoulda let them take over the intercom," the captain said. But he had to admit to himself, a party – it was actually an entire weekend of festivities – was a damned fine way of breaking the tension.

Hoshi smiled to herself. The film – _The Big Easy_ – had gone over well the previous evening. And now the party was about to begin.

=/\=

The Quartermaster had been busy. Usually, Sekar Khan had little to do, unless the Enterprise was visiting a Pre-Warp civilization. And now that the contact rules had been sent out to everyone's PADD, he knew that there would be few, if any, encounters with Pre-Warp species.

So the party had completely taken him by surprise. He had been up at all hours and had worked during his time off, but he had finished it all. Much of what he had done was not as ornate as he would have liked, but that was due to the time constraint. He'd do better the next time.

The masks had been the easiest part. He had made a simple mold and Commander Tucker had helped him to iterate it as many times as was necessary. Then he had colored the masks with shiny dyes. He didn't have fake fur or feathers or sequins. It would have to do.

And then the remainder – that had been the most fun. There was a lobster costume for Chef Slocum, complete with tail. A lot of the women were dressed as cats, birds or bunnies. And he had been sworn to secrecy when it came to the captain's costume.

He smiled to himself as he arrived at the festivities. He had with him two mocked-up crowns. One was larger, with a golden tone. The other was smaller and colored pink. They were for whoever would be crowned the King and Queen of the Mardi Gras.

It was amusing, he had to admit. And it was an illusion, too. People seemed to be fairly generous with the visuals. Pointed ears on a whiskered mask, plus a long tail made a cat, regardless of whatever else a woman may have been wearing, even if it was her uniform. There just hadn't been time for the specifics.

Shift was changing, and soon the party would really get lively. The only people who would be running the ship would be anyone who didn't want to go to the festivities. This included Commander T'Pol, naturally, plus Commander Tucker and Michael Rostov and Judy Kelly. Josh Rosen had drawn the short straw and was spending the duration of the party in engineering, whereas the others were on the Bridge, with Rostov trying his hand at piloting while Kelly familiarized herself with Tactical. Maryam Haroun ran Communications. Azar Hamidi was stationed at the Armory.

=/\=

On the Bridge, T'Pol said, "Crewman Haroun, kindly regain control over the intercom system." Maryam fiddled with controls and the Cajun music was no longer audible anywhere except for the Observation Lounge, where the party was being held.

=/\=

The music changed to something with a lot of accordions. Sekar made his way through the crowd. "I see the costume is looking good," he said to Lili.

"Oh, this old thing?" she joked. She was dressed in olive drab from head to toe, with a mask with very long antennae that flopped behind her head.

"Where are your claws?" he asked over the din.

"I'm using oven mitts instead," she said, demonstrating, "They're more practical." The mitts didn't quite match her outfit. Again, it was the impression of a costume, and little more than that.

"Next time, I'll make you some extra legs for your sides, too," he said, "Uh, what's on the menu?"

"Chicken and vegetarian versions of etoufée 'cause I'm the only crayfish here. And I will complain if you try to toss me into a cooking pot."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

=/\=

The day shift began to arrive. "Holy cow," Will said, as he brought out a large bowl of seasoned rice. "Uh, Khan, are you in charge of _those_ costumes?"

"I just provide masks, a few accessories and general ideas. I can't take the fall for the rest of it."

Half of the male MACOs just stared, not even bothering to hide it. There were a lot of _very_ short skirts.

"What are you supposed to be?" Lili asked Dan. He was bare-chested, in shorts, with boots and a mask and nothing else.

"Huh?" he had other things on his mind.

"Private Chang," she repeated, "What are you, exactly?"

"Oh, uh, I'm a boxer."

"Your shorts should say _Everlast_."

"Huh?"

"Your trunks should have the brand name _Everlast_ on them," she said.

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's a good idea." He approached the nearest bunny, Security Crewman Deborah Haddon. "Wanna go a few rounds?"

The music got loud. Her response was drowned out.

Lieutenant Reed arrived, still in uniform. He immediately made a face at the high volume of the music. He approached the punch bowls. Aidan MacKenzie – dressed as a caveman – spotted him. "This one's got the liquor," he yelled, indicating the bowl on the right.

A pounding headache seemed guaranteed, regardless of whether he indulged. Malcolm took a little of the nonalcoholic punch. Major Hayes entered, wearing an old-fashioned general's uniform from the Third World War. Malcolm got off a snappy salute when the Major approached. "That's from about, well, about now?" Malcolm yelled his question over the din.

"Yeah, it's from 2024," Hayes replied, "Over twenty years ago, I was given it as a gag gift. I take it wherever I go – dunno why. I never thought I'd actually find a use for it. How's the punch?"

There was sudden silence at the party, as Captain Archer walked in. He was wearing street clothes – dark jeans with a grey vest over a white shirt that billowed a bit. He had on a fake grey moustache, not too long, and his hair was supplemented with some sort of hairpiece, a bit longer than his real hair. It matched the moustache. He had on about a half a mask, so that the facial hair could be readily seen. The mask was pretty plain, except for a decoration on the side, which was almost a pyramid with an _X _atop it.

Sekar came over. "I dunno how the mask came out. People might not be able to guess who you are."

"Let's hope they've read classic literature," Captain Archer replied.

Hoshi walked in. She was another cat, but the main part of her costume was a pink Asian cocktail dress with slits in all of the right places. There were whistles.

Jonathan approached first. "Dance with me, pretty, uh, cat lady?"

"Meow," she replied, and took his hand.

The lights dimmed. It would have been romantic, except there was a communications chime, and then an alert signal.

"Bloody hell," said Malcolm, smacking the wall panel. "Reed here."

T'Pol was about to tell him what was happening when the ship was rocked. It was time for a change of venue.

=/\=

On the Bridge, T'Pol had taken over Tactical. "Firing port spatial torpedo!"

"Bring us about," Tripp said to Rostov.

"Aye, sir."

The door slid open and the regular Bridge crew arrived and took their stations quickly. "What's our status?" yelled the captain.

"A Tellarite cruiser captain has taken exception to our presence here," T'Pol reported.

"I'll need for torpedoes to be reloaded. Someone should help Mister Hamidi," Malcolm said.

"Get the MACOs into the Armory," Archer said to Hoshi, then addressed T'Pol, "What the hell happened?"

"Tellarites are a rather impatient species. Apparently we neither responded nor moved quickly enough," the Vulcan reported.

"I'll get to Engineering, see if I can coax out some more power," Tripp offered, beckoning for Michael and Judy to follow him.

Maryam looked a little lost as the ship was rocked again. "I'm sorry," she said as she left.

"All right," the captain sighed. He'd have to deal with that after the crisis at hand had abated. "How's the hull plating?"

"We're at ninety-six percent," Malcolm stated.

"Okay, we can take another pass. Open a channel." He realized he still had his mask on and tossed it to the side.

The Tellarite cruiser was on the main viewing screen. It was quickly replaced by the face of an annoyed male Tellarite, "What is it?" he snarled.

"This is Jonathan Archer of the star ship _Enterprise_. And you are?"

"You're trespassing."

"You're ugly," Archer answered, remembering how Tellarites enjoyed arguments and insults; it was how they communicated best. He then added, "We didn't know this region of space was claimed by anyone."

"You should have asked." The Tellarite captain seemed uninterested in playing the usual semantic game.

"We didn't know who to ask," Archer admitted, "And you are?" He repeated.

"Leave this area at once!"

"They're changing weapons, sir," Malcolm reported.

"I thought we were talking!" the captain yelled at the screen.

"There's nothing to talk about!" The Tellarite yelled back. "We own this space! We just got it back from the Imvari!"

"And just how big is this area that you claim?" the captain asked, his annoyance level more than matching that of the Tellarite.

The Tellarite thought for a moment.

"Do you have coordinates?" Archer asked, making a supreme effort to calm down.

"A moment," said the Tellarite, and it was all Jonathan could do to keep from returning the favor and barking at the alien to put a rush on it.

=/\=

The alert chime stopped. Phlox was in Sick Bay, awaiting casualties. At least there weren't going to be any, so far as he could tell. He let out the breath he'd been holding, and removed a fedora he'd been wearing. There was a fake whip nearby. "Well," he said to his Derellian bat, which was hopping around in its cage, "no one got a chance to guess I was this Indiana Jones character. Although I still say that archaeologists don't normally dress in such a manner."

=/\=

"Okay, we can stand down," Major Hayes said to the assembled MACOs. They had gathered in the Armory, and stood with Hamidi, ready to load another torpedo or grab weapons from the locker.

"The party, sir?" Corporal McKenzie ventured. She was still wearing a mask with a red crest on it, an approximation of a cardinal bird, and a matching outfit, all in red.

"Party's over," Hayes said, and then added, "uh, sorry."

He left, and Moreno grumbled, "I bet we'll be eating Cajun food for the next few days."

=/\=

_Captain's Log, May third, 2037_

_We engaged the Tellarites today. This was not what I had in mind when I determined that we needed to stay in a small corridor. It is beginning to look as if that won't be possible, unless we can find some space we can call our own. _

_What is also interesting is that the Tellarite captain said that they had just gotten a region of space back from a species called the Imvari. This is the second time we've heard about this species, and neither time has been in the context of anything that anyone could call good news. T'Pol says that they aren't in the Vulcan database. Perhaps we should look at whatever Daniels might have on them, assuming we can get any of his equipment to work. But I fear that's a dead end._

_In the meantime, we need a place and we need to find out more about this species. As for tonight's party, it was a good idea in theory, I suppose. But we can't have any more big blowouts like that, I am thinking. There was just too much of a skeleton crew on the Bridge when the Tellarities attacked. What if it had been the Klingons, or the Xindi? Morale is all well and good but Hoshi's committee has to come up with something a lot more low-key._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, May third, 2037_

_I am the captain and, yes, I know better. But I wanted to have fun, too. And I was starting to. Of course no one guessed that I was dressed as Don Quixote._

_I don't think that there is a Dulcinea here for me._

_And we need to do better. That much is obvious. Our socializing has to take a back seat to our safety and our readiness. The Xindi may be a century away but we still need to keep at it until then. Otherwise, what are we here for?_

_Next time, I guess, we'll socialize in shifts._

_On another note, I know that Crewman Haroun was doing her best, but communications with the Tellarites are never easy. It would be best if someone were to train to help Hoshi. I know that Chip Masterson is doing so. Maybe we can get a third person in, and maybe Haroun is the right person for the job. I'm not sure anymore._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, May third, 2037_

_Our lack of preparation was appalling. As the Armory Officer, I must take full responsibility, and shall submit to whatever punishment Captain Archer deems to be fit._

_It was foolish on my part to attend that party without leaving adequate and proper coverage at Tactical and in the Armory itself. My only saving grace is that I did not become at all inebriated. But that's a small comfort indeed. We could've bloody well all been killed._

_We shall all have to do better. I recognize that there will be opportunities to socialize as the years go by, but never again will I leave Tactical essentially unmanned. It's not like the MACOs, where they can all seemingly just do whatever, whenever and wherever._

_On a more personal note, if the Assistant Chef suspects anything about my condition she is not saying anything. And she has been rather discreet about it as well, by announcing what's vegan or kosher, rather than what's dairy. Such a pity that she is, I am quite certain, past her childbearing years._

=/\=

_William Slocum's Personal Log, May third, 2037_

_We have leftovers of almost everything. Lili was good about keeping more of the components separate. The unseasoned chicken can go anywhere, as can the plain rice. But we have seafood gumbo. We'll need to find some sort of a way to reuse it without just having soup every night. Perhaps Lili has some ideas about that._

_We have a list of ten things we would like Craig Willets to try to replicate next. They are – _

_Oil_

_Eggs_

_Peanut butter_

_Pepper _

_Bacon_

_Cheddar_

_Flour_

_Soy sauce_

_Vinegar_

_Shrimp_

=/\=

_Maryam Haroun's Personal Log, May third, 2037_

_I feel so terrible. I wish I had been at Navigation. Instead, I tried my hand at Communications, and we were engaged by the Tellarites! They are a difficult species at best. That part I know. I just feel like such a failure._

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal Log, May third, 2037_

_Instead of a log entry, I am just going to write a letter. And it might never be delivered. I don't know. But I have to write it. So here goes._

_To: Susan Cheshire,_

_C/o Titania Elementary School_

_Dear Susan,_

_Do you remember, back in I think it was '36 or so, when you and I were going out? We saw this old general's uniform in a shop window. I tried it on, and you called me handsome and let me tell you, nobody called me that. And so I bought the uniform, even though I had no real use for it._

_It ended between us that year but I kept the uni, and I brought it with me to all sorts of jobs. Funny, that. _

_Tonight, I finally had occasion to wear it. It still fits. The Armory Officer even saluted me. Pretty amusing. _

_But I also wanted you to know that it made me think of you. I miss the Earth, and I miss the right time period. Does that mean that I miss you, too? Or do you just symbolize those things in my mind? Do I equate you with love, or with home, or with a time where people like me who are born in 2102 are fifty-one in early 2154 and not in 2037?_

_I wish I knew what it was._

_The uni made me feel strange. But then again, it seems like everything makes me feel strange these days. My only anchor, it seems, is to think of you, of your gorgeous dark skin and the tiny gap in between your front teeth. In my dark and lonely nights, I think of such things, and I wonder if I will ever see home again, and if I will ever feel anything for anyone._

_Tell me, Susan; tell me if I ever will._

_As ever,_

_Jay_


	10. Chapter 10 - Hitting the Wall

Chapter 10 – Hitting the Wall

"We have an Asian salad for lunch today," Lili told the assembled senior staff, "There are two dressings – a regular oil and vinegar mix and a kind of ginger Caesar dressing, which is made with oil, vinegar, ginger, mayonnaise and pepper. Oh and there's soy sauce in it, too. Make sure to shake either dressing before pouring it out."

She paused to catch her breath as she placed bowls on the conference room table. "We have mixed greens here, totally vegan, and in this bowl there's chopped shrimp for those who eat shellfish. Please let me know what you think of the ginger dressing as it's new."

The captain thanked her. He looked at the shrimp skeptically. "Chopped shrimp?"

"It was kind of odds and ends, sir," she admitted. She turned away to turn the heat off a whistling tea kettle.

"I'd like to have these full department head meetings once a month," Archer began, "It's been about a month since our last one. Let's talk about pressing needs first."

"There are few options for travel," Travis said, "It's, uh, well, I imagine people are getting tired of seeing the same stars all the time, sir."

Jonathan smiled, "I don't suppose it's just boredom. It'll eventually turn into a morale issue, I imagine."

"The crew needs a purpose," T'Pol stated. She took a helping of the plain mixed greens.

Lili set out a plate of crackers. "Excuse me, I forgot to mention these. They're a bit of an experiment. A vegan experiment," she added hastily.

Lieutenant Reed tentatively took a cracker. "It would help if there could be some target practice, and possibly also some marksmanship work."

"We have a program," Jay Hayes said. He looked at the chopped shrimp with some trepidation, and then took some.

"Why don't you work that out in the gym?" Archer suggested. "Anyone else?"

"Craig Willets is working out well," offered Will, "But we could use another person who wanted to actually learn how to cook."

"Put out a call to everyone's PADD, see what kind of interest there is," the captain commanded. He tasted his salad. "I like the dressing."

"Oh! Thanks," Lili suddenly realized he was addressing her directly, "It's not too mayonnaise-y?"

"It's good," Hoshi confirmed, "a little on the unconventional side."

The plate of crackers was empty. "Have you any more of these?" Malcolm asked.

"I can make more," she said, "but it'll take me maybe an hour or so. I can also make a version flavored with cheddar if anyone would prefer that."

"What about long-term needs?" Archer inquired as he sipped jasmine tea.

Shelby announced, "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I am hitting the wall."

"Hitting the wall?" the captain asked.

"Certain plants require more space than I can give them," she explained.

"Like what?" Tripp asked, "Maybe we can move the Bio Lab, and give you the space next door to Botany."

"I need height, too," Shelby explained, "It's for trees."

"Trees?" Travis asked, "What do you need trees for?"

"Fruits and nuts – almost all of them grow on trees," Shelby explained, "I, uh, I don't want to be the person who tells everyone that we're out of oranges."

"Just oranges isn't so bad," Tripp asked, "is it?" 

"No more Orange Beef, then, sir," Lili interjected, "and no morning OJ, either."

"It's more than that," Shelby's voice was quavering and she was getting a little panicky-sounding, "We won't have almonds, or pears, or grapefruits. We'll run out of pineapple."

"No more pineapple?" asked Malcolm, blanching.

"No more walnuts," Shelby stated, "and there won't be cherries or bananas or coconuts, either. Sir," she addressed the captain, and she had lost her battle against becoming overly emotional, "I don't want to be the one who has to tell the crew that they'll never have apples again!"

The statement hung in the air for a moment, like a thick black cloud. "Can't, uh, can't Willets program those foods into the replicator?" Jonathan asked.

"It apparently takes a while," explained Will, "and we decided to have him concentrate his efforts on manufactured foods, and foods that Shelby would never be able to grow. Actually, Lili and I have something to confess to you all."

"Oh?" the captain inquired.

"The mixed greens in the salad, the ginger in the dressing, and the salt in the crackers," Lili said, "are pretty much the only things you've been eating that _didn't_ come from a replicator."

"The soy sauce?" asked Hoshi.

"Yes," Will confirmed, "we gave Craig a list of ten items about a month ago. Bacon and peanut butter are proving to be more elusive than we were hoping."

"The following are the replicated foods," Lili explained, "Both the oil and the vinegar in both dressings, for starters. And since we had oil, and Craig was able to approximate eggs, Chef and I made mayo. The pepper is also out of the replicator."

"That wasn't real shrimp, was it?" asked Jay.

"No, it wasn't. We can't get the shape quite right. That's why it looks all chopped," Will confessed, "We have the same issue with the eggs. Therefore, you'll see scrambled eggs or omelets, or you'll see them incorporated in cakes or the like. But you won't see sunny side up or hard-boiled."

"What about those crackers?" Malcolm asked.

"The oil and the wheat flour were replicated," Lili stated.

"What about apples and stuff like that?" Travis asked.

"It would be more logical to utilize Mister Willets' talents for making foodstuffs that cannot be created in any other manner," T'Pol pointed out.

"So we're back to needing space," Tripp sighed.

"Yes," the captain murmured absently, "we need to find a likely planet."

=/\=

Meeting finally done, Hoshi cornered Lili, "I'd like to have another Morale Committee meeting soon. We need to come up with something more low key than a blowout party."

"Right-o," Lili was clearing the plates. "Was the soy sauce okay?"

"I'd like to taste it by itself," Hoshi said.

"Sure thing. Wanna do a blind taste test?"

"I guess so. May the next time we have stir fry?"

"Good, I was hoping for a somewhat more expert opinion," Lili smiled and finished loading up her cart.

=/\=

"Crewman, you asked to see me?" They were in the captain's Ready Room – he and Maryam Haroun – about a half an hour after the conclusion of the senior staff meeting.

"Yes, sir, I was thinking about what, what happened last month, and I would like to try communications again," she stammered, "if, uh, if it's all right with you and Ensign Sato, of course. Can she join us?"

"Sure." He contacted Hoshi, who joined them. "There are some times during the day when you don't work, is that correct?" the captain inquired.

"Yes, sir. So long as it isn't an emergency situation, I face Mecca and pray five times per day, for dawn to sunrise, and then noon, afternoon, sunset and evening." She adjusted her hijab a little, an old nervous habit.

"Most of those are times before seventeen hundred hours, right?" Hoshi asked, "Would you work second shift?"

"I suppose I could. Then I would be praying only once or twice during shift, depending on the time of year."

"So for the times when your duty would be, er, interrupted, on any given day Ensign Sato here could cover for you. And if your dawn prayers arrived particularly early during your shift, Ensign Masterson could cover."

"So Chip is going to take night shift Communications?" Maryam asked.

"Yes, he is. Of course this is all on a provisional basis. If Malcolm needs him back, or if Travis needs for you to return to Navigation, you would," he clarified.

"Of course, sir. Thank you, sir. Thank you, Ensign."

"I'm sure you realize," the captain explained, "after our little encounter with the Tellarites, that running Communications is more than just running the equipment. You need to be able to improvise languages sometimes. And you need to learn any protocols that we have for dealing with any of the species that are out here."

"Yes," Maryam said, "I grew up, for my first six years, all I spoke was Arabic. I didn't learn English until we moved to Winnipeg."

"So you had to adapt to a whole new alphabet, eh?"

"And syntax, inflections, the fact that we don't assign genders to genderless articles, you name it, sir." Hoshi nodded her confirmation.

"I'd say you've done well for yourself. Hoshi?"

"Definitely," Hoshi said, "welcome to the team."

=/\=

_"Aidan!" Jennifer called out. Shift was changing. She was getting off duty as he was starting his day._

_"Yeah? Uh, can you walk with me? I've gotta get to the Bridge."_

_"Sure. Um, do you, uh, are you busy?" she asked._

_"I'm starting my shift," he didn't comprehend._

_"Yes, of course. I meant this weekend."_

_"Oh." He stopped walking._

_"Is that a bad __oh__ or a good __oh__?"_

_"It's a kind of an unexpected __oh__, I guess," he admitted. He then added, "But not a bad one. You know I like you. You know I've liked you for a while. But it never seemed like I had a shot or anything. I just, it's weird that you changed your mind, I suppose."_

_"I, uh," she backpedaled, "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Aidan."_

_"That's not it. Actually, I don't want __you_ _to be uncomfortable. I would like for this to be as non-awkward as possible."_

_"Too late." She smiled._

=/\=

_Captain's Log, June seventeenth, 2037_

_It's becoming abundantly clear that we will need to find a likely planet. There's not enough time for terraforming, and we don't have the resources anyway. So we'll need to find a Minshara class planet, and I don't imagine they come without hitches, and costs, and conditions._

_But I just don't see a choice in the matter. We are going to need a place to grow food. And, eventually, when children are born, we are going to need a place to put them if we need to engage the Xindi, or if our population gets too high to be sustained on the ship._

_Erika Hernandez, I am sure, won't have to worry about anything quite like this. I will put together a team to start planet-hunting. I figure on Travis and T'Pol. I'm not certain who else should be involved. Maybe I should include Hayes?_

_We are turning into a ship of teams and committees, not unlike a small town. I don't know if this is the best or right way to handle such things but, right now, these are the only ideas I've got. All I can hope for is to, somehow, keep these records and pass them onto our descendants. Maybe they can learn something from all of our fumblings. It's difficult to do this without guidance or instructions._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, June seventeenth, 2037_

_I wish my father were here. He'd say, "Jonathan, you've got to keep it together. Fake it until you make it."_

_But all I do these days is I spend my time mopping up various crises. After the debacle last month with the Tellarites, I've pushed for a renewed commitment to training and cross-training. I've inspected every duty roster as carefully as if it were the goddamned Zapruder film. I've banished all thoughts of parties and relaxation in favor of work._

_This is no pleasure cruise. But I've also got to allow for some fun and fraternizing. And moods can turn on a dime. I've spent time assuring Crewman Haroun that she did nothing wrong, and devising a suitable response to Malcolm's calls for more discipline and readiness. I know that he's right._

_It seems that I am managing everyone else's feelings, and never my own. I've pushed Hoshi to have her committee meet again. They need to come up with something other than a party, to give us all some hope._

_Hope._

_I fear we will run out of it long before we run out of oranges and almonds._

=/\=

_Jennifer Crossman's Personal Log, June seventeenth, 2037_

_Well, I did it, I asked Aidan out._

_I think he was kind of shocked. I've pushed him away for so long. It's not that I didn't find him attractive. It's hard not to find him attractive. He has all of the physical qualities anyone could ever want. It's more that I wanted to be sure. Or, at least I wanted to be surer than I've been._

_My mother always told me, "Jennifer, never date a guy you work with."_

_And that, like so many other things, is now totally out the window, for good._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, June seventeenth, 2037_

_I feel we are ready. The crew has been through every drill imaginable. Frankly, I am tired of the drills a bit, and I suppose everyone else is, as well._

_No one can say, ever again, that Tactical is unprepared. I am even all right with Mister Masterson cross-training in Communications. There may be some day when all of our skills shall come to bear._

_On a personal note, Ensign O'Day sent me a PADD message, letting me know that she had made more of those crackers that I really enjoyed at luncheon today. Who would have thought that something mostly replicated would be so tasty? I suppose it's all in the presentation._

_If I could only place her culinary skills inside, perhaps, Deborah Haddon's body and Crewman Jones's face, now, that would be a triumph. Retaining Ensign O'Day's eyes, though – that would be crucial. _

_I should revisit my idea of a tote board, I suppose._


	11. Chapter 11 - The Planet

Chapter 11 – The Planet

Their alarms went off, and were very nearly drowned out by PADD chimes, _dinging_ insistently and irregularly, a cacophony of communications.

"Sheesh!" Lili exclaimed as she turned her own alarm off. She checked her PADD. No messages. The cacophony was all for her roommate, Jennifer Crossman.

Jenny was a little slow to stir that morning. "Huh?"

"Jenny!" Lili exclaimed, "Everyone and his brother is sending you messages, it seems!"

Jenny shook away the cobwebs and blinked open her eyes. She turned off her own alarm and then got up and walked over to her PADD. "Holy cow," she muttered, "this is ridiculous." She switched the PADD's mode from _chime_ to_ flash_ and the noise, mercifully, stopped. "Man, oh man, there are at least a good thirty messages on here!"

"Engineering emergency?" Lili put on her chef's whites and hunted around for a suitable baseball cap with which to hold back her light blonde hair. _The Mars Dolphins _– that would do just fine.

"Not unless it affects Security somehow," Jenny answered.

"Security?"

"Yeah, I've got messages from, uh, Brian Delacroix, Dan Chang, Will Slocum, Travis Mayweather, uh, Andy Miller," she paused to scroll a bit through the list of unread messages, "Chip Masterson, um, Mark Reilly, Brad Moreno." She sighed. "I think they're all asking me out, Lili."

"Why now? We don't have anything coming up, no party or anything."

"I think it's just," Jenny opined, "that they might've figured that around three months since the big announcement would be time enough to get used to the idea. Anyway, that's my theory. I could be totally off base here."

"Well, you and Aidan should go public with what you have. Uh, whatever that is. Unless you want to hedge your bets, or something."

Jenny smiled. "It's just that it's still so new. I guess I want to keep it all to myself. But you're right, of course. I guess it's time to go public."

"Maybe Hoshi could broadcast it on the intercom."

"_Lili!_"

"_Kidding. Really_. Relax, Jenn."

"Oh, whew."

=/\=

Commander T'Pol, Major Hayes, Ensign Mayweather and Navigational Crewman Preston Jennings sat in the main conference room. "And we are in agreement?" asked the Vulcan.

"Looks like it," Travis confirmed, "We've got four likely candidates."

"Then we will tell the captain to contact the Xyrillians and see if they know if anyone has claimed any of our choices." T'Pol said.

"I can't believe it," Preston enthused, "we might be getting a planet."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Jay cautioned, "don't get your hopes up or anything."

=/\=

"So you're sure about this?" the captain asked T'Pol. The two of them were alone in his Ready Room as Malcolm had the Bridge.

"Positive," she stated, "There are four Minshara class planets not twenty light years from our present position. We do not know if any of them have been claimed, or if any of them are inhabited."

"What if the Xyrillians don't know anything about them? Can we make any assumptions, do you think?"

"It would be pointless to speculate. However, there are few other species we would be advised to consult on this matter."

"You're right," Archer agreed. The two of them walked onto the Bridge and Malcolm relinquished command. "Hoshi, open a channel to Tre'ex, please."

"Right away, sir."

"Ah," Tre'ex smiled when he saw it was them, "What brings this communication?"

"We have a question," Jonathan asked, "Do you have information on who is claiming which regions of space out here?"

"Transfer them the information," Tre'ex told a Xyrillian woman nearby. She nodded and set about getting to work. "The information we have is fairly up to date, but do keep in mind that the Imvari are making some of it obsolete."

"You mentioned the Imvari last time," T'Pol said, "What information do you have on that species?"

Tre'ex again indicated the woman nearby – more data for her to transmit over. "They are rather tall, with bluish skin and horned faces. I will send a photograph."

=/\=

Engineering Crewman Tracey Carter was walking down a hallway with her roommate, Maryam Haroun, when she spotted him. They walked by and, once she figured they were out of earshot, she said to Maryam, "That's him. That's the guy."

"Oh. We know so little about the MACOs. Do you even know his first name?" Maryam asked.

"His uni patch says _O. __Tiburón_," Tracey mused, "Oliver? Otto?" she giggled a little at the sound of that, "Orson? Omar?"

"Orlando?" asked Maryam, "Oswald?"

"Otis?" continued Tracey, "Ozzie? Orville? They all sound pretty awful."

Maryam shrugged. "I am sure I don't know what Spanish parents would name their son."

"And he is _totally_ hot," Tracey gushed.

"Tracey! What are you, a teenager?"

"No, of course not," Tracey said, "I just think he's cute. C'mon, there's gotta be somebody _you_ find cute."

Maryam stopped walking for a second. "I only have two choices."

"Yeah, I guess so, now that you put it that way," Tracey said, "Do you have a preference?"

"I, I don't know," Maryam admitted, "I'm not used to it being just my choice."

"Hmm, I guess that would be a little weird."

=/\=

They met in the conference room.

"We have interesting news," the captain began, "We have two likely candidates for planets. These planets satisfy most of our needs. They are Minshara class and are remote from Earth. And so far as the Xyrillians are concerned, they're not being claimed by anyone, such as the Imvari. But keep in mind that Tre'ex might not have the most current information at his fingertips."

"We can be at the first coordinates in approximately two days," T'Pol added, "A team will be sent to investigate the planets for suitability. That team will consist of myself, Ensign Mayweather, Major Hayes and Crewman Pike. If either location proves suitable, a second landing party will be sent down. The composition of that second team has not yet been determined. However, it, too, would include at least one MACO, and probably also Commander Tucker."

"What can the rest of us do in the meantime?" Will asked.

"Keep a good thought," Jonathan said.

"Our other information," Malcolm said, "is about the Imvari. Hoshi, if you please."

She fiddled with controls until an image was projected on a screen.

"According to Tre'ex," explained Malcolm, "this is a picture of a typical Imvari. This photograph was smuggled out of a place that the captain and I have been to – the Klingon prison at Rura Penthe."

"Aside from being ugly sons of bitches," Jay explained, "they are also pretty powerful. They're about two meters tall on average, and as a species they are generally hired out as mercenaries."

"Tre'ex said that he believes the Imvari in the area are capturing another species, Ikaarans, possibly to be sold as slaves to the Orion Syndicate," T'Pol explained.

"So they're just regular boy scouts," Tripp quipped, "Sure you don't want to send more'n one MACO to that first planet?"

"At this point," Jay clarified, "if the Imvari are interested in selling anyone into slavery, we figured it would be better to limit that number."

"And I can lead an assault team if it comes to that," Malcolm stated.

"Let's get to that planet and see what's up," Archer commanded, "even if the Imvari don't care about it, it might have other problems, other reasons why we wouldn't want it."

"Two days?" Shelby asked.

"Two days," Travis replied.

=/\=

The trip was, as promised, swift. Travis piloted Shuttlepod One as T'Pol sat next to him and looked over her sensors. Jay and Shelby sat in the back. "What are you looking for?" he asked her.

"Huh? Oh, lots of things," Shelby said, "Soil, for one thing, and not just a bunch of rocks. And I need to see if there are any, er, critters that we might be able to harness as pollinators or that would be pests. Plus I'm looking for four different climates, at least to start."

"Which are?"

"I'm looking for tropical for things like pineapple, Mediterranean for things like almonds, northeast North America for stuff like apples and prairie for wheat and the like."

"Amber waves of grain?" Jay asked.

"Something like that."

"Landing thrusters on," Travis announced.

"Acknowledged," T'Pol answered.

Once they had landed, Travis opened the hatch. Jay stepped out first, phase rifle at the ready. He waved to the women to follow him. The first thing that Shelby did was sniff the air. T'Pol did as well.

Jay took a deep breath. "It smells a little like late summer on Ganymede."

"This is a very good sign," Shelby said. She took out a scanner and began poking around as T'Pol followed and did the same.

Jay stood behind them, vigilant, listening for anything that might be at all threatening.

They had been there for over an hour when Travis came out of the shuttle to look for them.

=/\=

Back on board, the reports were good. "There is wildlife," Shelby began. It was the small team plus Captain Archer, in the conference room. "But I think it's mainly more afraid of us than we are of it. Small creatures, predominantly reptiles, I think."

"I did hear some animals that may have been larger," Jay reported, "but they didn't come close. It's possible that they, too, are afraid of us."

Lili was serving coffee and leaned over. "Do you want more?" she asked.

"Uh, no thanks," Jay said.

"It appears that the makings of a Mediterranean climate and a tropical climate exist on this planet," T'Pol said, "There were open spaces near the equator, on the southern continent."

"And there was soil," Shelby said, "and it seemed to be good and not too sandy. The pH values were good for growing most tropical species. As for the Mediterranean part, which was in the northern continent – the planet only has two continents. I think the Med area needs a little more work when it comes to the soil, but I think I can fake it with fertilizer and legumes, so we could start off by growing soy there."

"Anything else?" the captain asked.

"There were oceans but there were also some big lakes on both of the continents," Travis said, "We tested them and the water was drinkable. And we passed through quarantine, so no parasites."

"I bet we could go swimming there," Shelby said.

"A little celebration, I'd say," Jonathan stated, "Ensign," he addressed Lili, "you're on Ensign Sato's committee, right?"

"Yes, sir. More iced tea?"

"No, thank you. But please tell Hoshi that we might be able to have a little swimming party soon. But no alcohol."

"Of course not, sir."

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal Log, August fourteenth, 2037_

_I have no idea what I'm doing. _

_I mean, I know, of course I know! The MACOs under my command – they certainly don't suspect a thing._

_But what the hell am I doing making small talk with that Botanist? What are you doing, Jay? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

_She is how much younger than I am? We must be apart by at least a good twenty years. I am a fool to even talk to her._

_She is not Susan. She is not Susan. She is not Susan. _

_No one is._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, August fourteenth, 2037_

_We have a likely planet. And that's fantastic. We'll check out the other one, soon. But in the meantime, I think it's time for a little shore leave. Shelby Pike suggested we could go swimming there, and I think that's a marvelous idea._

_I can't dress as Don Quixote then, I suppose. Hey, maybe I can get an impromptu water polo match going._

=/\=

_Michelle Pike's Personal Log, August fourteenth, 2037_

_I don't know what I was doing, suggesting swimming! Man oh man, I am dense sometimes. But, really, I guess it's okay. The captain seemed to like the idea, although I got the eyebrow from T'Pol. _

=/\=

_Travis Mayweather's Personal Log, August fourteenth, 2037_

_Swimming, eh? I can't wait to see the girls in their suits! A few of those MACOs are really cute. I wonder if I can turn on the old pilot charm – Hi, I'm Travis, and I found this swimming hole. Yeah, that could work._


	12. Chapter 12 - Immodesty

Chapter 12 - Immodesty

They took both shuttles to the planet's surface. Everyone else who was going simply beamed down. After the Mardi Gras debacle, it had been decided that shore leave would be accomplished in shifts. After two hours, the shuttles would return to the _Enterprise_ and trade with the next shift, which would then enjoy two hours on the planet. There weren't enough people for a third wave, mainly because the night shift, for the most part, just wanted to sleep. But there were a few exceptions, including Aidan MacKenzie.

As advertised, the southern continent had pleasant tropical weather. Lili set up a barbecue and began grilling vegetables and replicated chicken.

Almost everyone else got into the water nearly immediately. Captain Archer had brought a water polo ball and was trying to interest some of the crew in learning the game, but only a few people were following along. Major Hayes started swimming laps.

Malcolm sat at the water's edge. Still in uniform, he watched his shipmates as they swam and cavorted. He was particularly taken with watching the women, as some of them had had their standard Starfleet regulation swimwear altered by Sekar. He hadn't cut anything into a bikini, but there were still a few bare midriffs.

"Not joining in the fun?" Lili asked. In the background there was an accompanying sizzling sound and the scent of barbecued chicken began to waft through the air.

"Wha –? Oh, no," Malcolm stated, "Someone's got to pilot Shuttlepod Two."

"Oh. Well, Travis is out there. And I'm pretty sure he's the pilot for Shuttlepod One," she pointed out.

"I suppose _he_ can get out there, then," Malcolm replied, a little annoyedly. After a moment, he added, "You're not swimming, either."

"Someone has to cook lunch."

"Your boss is in there, trying to dunk Susie Money."

"That's 'cause he's my boss."

"_Touché_." There was silence for a while, and then he added, "I, uh, I apologize. I'm a bit overly sensitive about it."

"About being on duty?" she asked.

"No, about the water." He had been sitting on the bank but got up, and came close to where she was standing. The wind shifted a little, and blew the smoke in their faces, making their eyes tear. Once the wind had shifted back, he very quietly said to her, "May I confide something to you?"

"Of course," she said, "You know I won't say anything – just like with the dairy thing. It's lactose intolerance, right?"

He nodded. "It's just; the physical manifestation of it is more than a touch embarrassing."

"It humanizes you," she explained, rearranging the cooking chicken.

"That's one way of looking at it. Uh, the water. I was in school. And some older boys decided it would be a spot of fun to push me down." He paused and stared into space for a moment. "I very nearly drowned."

"How old were you?"

"Six years old."

"No wonder it bothers you to this day. Can I tell you something in return?"

"By all means."

"You're not the only one with secret fears and traumas."

"Water for you, too?" Malcolm asked.

"Lightning and thunder. And fire, too," she murmured, as a bit of grease blazed briefly.

"Fire? But you're a chef. Or, at least I think you are, or you're an assistant or, uh, I don't know the terminology."

"My role here is sous-chef. And that is a kind of assistant. But I really am a full-blown chef. I owned my own place. Don't you remember, Archer told the senior staff that when I first met all of you."

"Oh, yes, now that you mention it. But tell me about fire, and about lightning and thunder. That is, if you're comfortable saying so."

"I've been able to work through the fear of fire. But not the other two – they haven't gone away. You were six. I was nine."

"Were you badly burned?" he asked, wondering just a little bit, if she was horribly scarred underneath her ever-present chef's whites.

"I was completely untouched physically," Lili reminisced, "I went to visit my mother's parents. They lived in New France."

"Where is that?"

"It's on Titan. That's where I'm from. It was supposed to only be for the afternoon. I just had the clothes on my back. No toys, no books, no jacket, no school supplies, no photographs – I had nothing else with me." The wind changed direction again; reddening her in the face and making her eyes tear again. She flipped a few pieces of chicken and clarified, "It was a rainy day. It was early afternoon when we learned there was a fire at my, at my house."

"Oh, no."

"It was, huh, it was a kitchen fire originally. But it went way out of control. By the time they put it out, well, my parents were both gone. It, it thundered, and there was lightning that night, something awful. It echoed around my grandparents' house. I didn't sleep that night. I just lay there, screaming."

Malcolm stood there listening, and finally asked, "Have you any brothers and sisters who could've comforted you somehow?"

"No, it's just me. My mother's parents – the Ducasses – they raised me. I was a troublemaker. It must've been hard for them, dealing with their daughter's death and their own granddaughter's misbehavior. My grandmother Lilienne finally plunked me in front of a set of burners one day. I screamed and cried and cursed her and my grandfather, _Richard_." She said his name with a French inflection.

"My father tried everything to get me to swim. I can't say I know precisely how you felt, but I can say I have, I suppose, a reasonable approximation."

"You probably do," Lili sighed, "It was bacon, I remember, and it flared up. And I realize now that she probably deliberately _made_ it flare."

"So you were thrown into the deep end."

"In a manner of speaking, yes, that's right. And she showed me how to put it out. I guess that gave me a little power over it. That all happened maybe thirty years ago."

"And thunder and lightning?" Malcolm prompted.

"I can't do anything about it unless I can get some power over it, I think," she shrugged, "so since that's impossible, I usually just hide under the nearest bed or something until it all blows over."

"We've been in some battles," Malcolm ventured, "May I ask – and you need not answer this – but are you terrified by them?"

She was about to answer that when Private Chang came over. He grabbed a wide slice of grilled red pepper that she had just taken off the grill, and swore when it singed his fingers. "Where's Crossman?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Well, she's your roommate."

"When I last looked, I wasn't her keeper," Lili said, "Otherwise, wouldn't you be in charge of Oscar Tiburón?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He blew on the piece of grilled pepper as he walked away.

"I don't see Aidan, either," Malcolm said, "Care to venture a guess as to where they might have gone to?"

=/\=

They needn't have looked far.

Jenny and Aidan had gone to a nearby clearing. They ended a long kiss. "Did you take the shot?" he asked, breathing heavily.

"No, I thought you did."

He laughed a little. "Uh, I guess we'll do something else, then. But, uh, when we get back, let's both go to Phlox and get the birth control shot. Just to make sure and all."

"Yeah," she moaned as he licked her neck.

"And then tonight," he said as he kissed and licked her neck, "you and me – your quarters or mine?"

"Yours. I have a roommate," she said.

"And so do I," Aidan said, "think we could fix 'em up together?"

"Lili and Chip? Huh, I dunno. Why are we talking about them again?"

Pretty soon, their clothes were off, and the time for talking was over.

=/\=

Maryam and Shelby were walking away from the swimming party. Shelby explained, "And here is where we can probably plant an orange grove. It looks like just the perimeter needs to be cleared."

"Ah, good, thank you for showing me," Maryam said, "It's good to get into the fresh air, but some of those swimming costumes were rather immodest."

Shelby heard it first and blanched. "Uh, maybe we should walk over here," she took Maryam's elbow to steer her away from the clearing.

"What? I don't understand, Shelby."

"Uh, it's, uh, something you will probably find to be, um, immodest."

Private Azar was out of the swimming hole and walking nearby. He waved and approached them as Maryam looked down, a little shy with the attention.

"Uh, don't go over there," Shelby said, vaguely gesturing.

"Uh, why?"

"Just don't," Shelby insisted.

He disobeyed her, and got an eyeful.

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, August twentieth, 2037_

_Well, no one wanted to learn how to play water polo. But that's all right. It's a sport of finesse – and I guess not everyone is into such things. But people seemed to have fun._

_Although then there was, well, a little too much fun. _

_I don't suppose I can truly blame them. After all, both Ensign Crossman and Ensign MacKenzie have roommates. Where else is a couple going to be able to have a little privacy? _

_I fear that I am going to have to start negotiating roommate disputes, where someone is kicked out in the middle of the night. This sort of thing is only going to keep happening.  
_

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, August twentieth, 2037_

_I can't believe I actually told Lieutenant Reed what I did. I haven't really opened up to anyone around here about that before. Will only knows that my parents died in a house fire, but he doesn't know a lot of the remainder of it. Malcolm is pretty easy to talk to, once he realizes it's all in confidence. Of course – lactose intolerance – that was a lucky guess on my part. _

_It's a pity he doesn't play on my team. I'll see if I can find him a nice fellow to be with. Maybe Major Hayes would be interested?  
_

=/\=

_Maryam Haroun's Personal Log, August twentieth, 2037_

_I am glad that Shelby steered me away when she did. I would not have wanted to see Jennifer and Aidan in a state of undress. _

_I suppose it should not shock me, yet it does. I hope that they will marry soon._

_And – I saw Ramih today! Of course I see both him and Azar every day, but it was a joy to see Ramih enjoying himself. He was modest when I saw him up close; I don't think he wanted me to feel uncomfortable. Azar was not in the group that I was in, so I cannot comment on him._

_I would like some guidance. There is so much I do not know, and am unsure of. I miss my parents so much, and this is but one of the many reasons why. I am going to see if there is someone I can speak with, who will act a bit like a parent for me. That might be a wise way to approach this matter._

_I am a good Muslim woman, and I wish to, eventually, become a good Muslim wife. But I need assistance in choosing the right one. Tracey had asked me whether I favored either of them. I don't know.  
_

=/\=

_Jennifer Crossman's Personal Log, August twentieth, 2037_

_It's funny, being caught like that. I don't know if it would have been worse if we had been having out and out intercourse, but it was bad enough. No one wants the world to see them, well, no one wants to be shown quite in the position we were in at the time. _

_I'm a little amused by it, I guess, and Aidan was pretty good about it. I guess now everyone knows that he and I are an item. It's kinda hard to deny it now._

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal Log, August twentieth, 2037_

_I got in a good workout today. I haven't swum laps in a few years. That also got me out of the captain's lessons in water polo. Sheesh, give it a rest, Archer!_

_People seemed to be having fun, which was good._

_And yeah, I'm a man, and I definitely noticed all of the cleavage and the legs and a few bare stomachs out there, too. I figured the more laps I swam; the less likely it would be that anyone would see my arousal. _

_God, I love women. I won't deny that. I love their shapes and their smells and their softness. But I want it to be more than shapes and smells and softness. _

_We got back and I just went to my quarters and took a shower. And I don't have to get explicit about that, I'm sure. But for the first time in a while, my fantasy wasn't about Susan. I didn't really fixate on any of the women in particular, I just thought about softness and shapes, stuff like that, but not personalities or faces or voices. I guess that's progress, in a way._


	13. Chapter 13 - Desire and Trust

Chapter 13 – Desire and Trust

They packed onto the two shuttles to return to the planet's surface, to the southern continent, near a lake. This time, swimming was not on their minds. Four other people arrived via transporter, for a total of twenty participants.

On the _Enterprise_, Chip Masterson was manning Communications. He opened up a channel to the surface and put it on the shipwide intercom.

Oscar Tiburón and Diana Jones took shovels and dug twin holes in the ground. Ethan Shapiro and Sandra Sloane took large dippers and filled a barrel with water from the lake.

"Deep enough?" Jonathan asked Shelby. She nodded, and he began to speak to the audiences, both on the surface and on the _Enterprise_. "As I'm sure you all recall, yesterday I asked everyone to send a short, one-sentence wish to Hoshi. The idea was for it to not be traceable directly to you."

Hoshi smiled her acknowledgement. The captain continued, "We gathered up your wishes and printed them, and then cut them apart." He held up a basket with slips of real paper in it. "And now we are going to add your anonymous wishes."

Tripp Tucker came forward and took a slip. He smiled at it and then read it aloud, "_I wish Hoshi would go out with me_." He then threw the slip of paper into one of the holes that had been dug.

Hoshi blushed and then reached into the basket for a slip. "_I wish I could watch a baseball game live_."

Diana read, "_I wish I wasn't losing my hair_." They all laughed at that one – it was probably from José Torres.

Malcolm read, "_I wish I had seen my twin one last time before we left_." The mood was somber again. He tossed the slip into one of the holes.

"_I wish I could lose about nine kilos_," Shelby read off another slip before throwing it into one of the two holes.

"_I wish I knew the way_," Ethan read.

"_I wish my dog was here_," Oscar read.

"_I wish we could go to Earth_," Sandra read. Eyes moist and red, she threw the slip into a hole.

They read ninety-three separate wishes. Archer took the last one, the ninety-fourth one, and read it aloud, "_I wish someone would make this decision for me_." He threw it into the hole with, to his mind, the least number of slips of paper.

Oscar and Diana then brought over two saplings. Shelby and Andrew unwrapped them carefully – an orange tree and a coconut palm. They placed them into the holes. Shelby nodded her approval. Sandra and Ethan then took the shovels and filled in the holes. Andrew and Shelby then took the dippers and watered the plants.

Jonathan spoke again. "Nobody can say whether any of this will actually work. And we won't add so much ceremony to any of our other plantings. But today, I think it was important. These trees represent our hopes for the future. They are fed by our wishes, and nourished by our dreams. May they grow as tall and as strong as our aspirations."

Hoshi set up a small camera and tested it, and the feed started. Anyone on the _NX-01_ could, if they wished, watch the two plants, 24/7.

=/\=

In the galley, Will and Lili watched the ceremony. "Which wish was yours?" he asked.

"You're not supposed to say," she reminded him. She didn't want him to know that her wish had been to lose nine kilos. It just seemed so superficial, in light of others' yearnings.

"Well, mine was that I wished for someone to knit me a scarf. It's, um, it's not that I need one or anything, of course," he explained, "It's just that it seems like a homey thing to do."

"That's kind of nice. I haven't knitted anything in years."

"You knit?" he asked.

"Not too terribly well."

=/\=

"Karin! Karin!" Ethan Shapiro called after Karin Bernstein once the ceremony was over and he and the others were back on the _Enterprise_. They were walking down the hall on C deck.

"Yes?"

"Are you, um, are you free?"

"Free when?"

"Tonight? It's Movie Night," Ethan said, "Chip's showing _Terms of Endearment_. He's says it's, uh, that it's very emotional." He had actually said that it was a _chick flick,_ but Ethan figured Karin might like it.

"I promised Josh I would go with him," she replied.

"Oh. Sorry to have bothered you." He walked away, shoulders hunched down.

She sighed. Someone had to get the short end of the stick. It was probably not going to be possible to remain friends with one if she ended up with the other. Karin walked away slowly, hoping that Josh would be better about things than Ethan had been. As for Andrew, he seemed interested in pursuing other options, as he was only half-Jewish so it was less important for him to marry a Jewish woman. The last thing she had wanted was to get into the middle of it all, but that was where she found herself just the same.

"It's getting too damned complicated," she whispered to herself.

=/\=

Ethan Shapiro went to Sick Bay. Doctor Phlox was alone, save for his menagerie of experimental animals. "Ah, Crewman!" Phlox called, "Something troubling you?"

"Uh, yeah," Ethan admitted. The doctor grabbed his medical scanner, but Ethan stopped him. "Uh, it's nothing physical."

"Oh, I see," the Denobulan put away the device. "What is troubling you?"

"Well, it's like this," Ethan stated, "I'm in a bind. It's due to, well, it should be obvious what it's due to."

"Yes, yes, the generational nature of our ship."

"Right. And it's like Junior High half the time."

"I'm not following you, Crewman."

Ethan sighed. "It's, well, in my faith, I'm supposed to marry a Jewish girl."

"And?"

"And there is only one on the ship – Karin Bernstein."

"And she is not attached to anyone right now, is she?"

"She's getting there," Ethan explained, "she said she was going to Movie Night with Josh."

"Ah, Crewman Rosen," Phlox asked, "and he is also of the Jewish faith?"

"Yes, and Andy Miller is, too, but he's half something else, maybe Lutheran? Anyway, it's not as vital for Andy."

"So Crewman Miller's parents were of different religions?"

"Right. But I just, I can't. I mean, it's not like other girls aren't interesting or anything. It's just, I mean, it doesn't feel right. What am I gonna talk to someone like Shari Jeffers, or Ingrid Nyqvist about?"

"Stellar cartography, perhaps?" The doctor suggested, remembering both women's specialty.

"Very funny," Ethan sighed, "it's that, they're too different from me. I don't think I can relate to them at all."

Phlox thought for a moment. "Is everyone in your faith born into it? Or are some, perhaps, brought to it later?"

"You mean converts? Yeah, there are some. Not a lot of people try to become Jewish. It's not exactly easy, far as I'm aware."

"Then perhaps Crewman Nyqvist or Crewman Jeffers or one of the other women, like Crewman Andreiou, could be persuaded to convert to your faith."

"I dunno."

"Plus Crewman Bernstein, you said she was not quite attached. I imagine some relationships will begin and then will fizzle out. Give it some time. She may be interested yet."

"I dunno," Ethan sighed, "it's, um, you see, I think I'm firmly ensconced in the _Friend Zone_ with her."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The_ Friend Zone_ is when a woman just thinks of you as a pal, and not in any other way. And if you make a move, you end up just creeping her out."

"Oh. I shall have to remember this, this _Friend Zone_."

The Sick Bay doors swished open and Maryam walked in. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "I could return later."

"It's all right," Ethan muttered, "I was just leaving."

=/\=

Karin got ready in her quarters, hair just so, clean uniform on, a little perfume. _Not too much, don't look too eager_, she reminded herself. She touched up her makeup. The door chimed and she jumped a little. "Come in!"

It was Josh, but he had his hands behind his back. "You almost ready?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "come in."

"Oh and here." He presented what had been behind his back, a folded together collection of red and green socks that resembled the fabric version of a rose.

"Uh, what's this?" she asked, taking it from him and laughing a little.

"Well, I figured a real rose would be kinda impractical," Josh said, "and you're always saying that your feet are cold. So I put the two together. I don't think I quite got the petals right. It's all held together with alligator clips. We've got tons of 'em in Engineering; Commander Tucker won't miss a few."

"That's so sweet." Karin was just about ready to go when she turned to him and smiled. "Do you, uh, do you really want to see the movie?"

"Not really," he admitted, "I just wanted to see _you_." He took her hand. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately," he came closer, "and it hasn't, um, it hasn't always been the kind of thinking that I would, uh, admit to my mother or anything. Yanno what I mean?"

"I do."

"And, uh, it makes me wonder if you, um, if you think of those, uh, things, too."

"Of course I do."

"Well, um, lemme rephrase that," Josh cleared his throat. "Do you ever think of those things and, uh, and of me?"

There was a brief silence. She looked him deep in the eyes. "All the time."

They never made it to the movie.

=/\=

"Doctor," Maryam began, "I am here because I am a bit concerned about, about my future."

"Could you please elaborate?" he asked.

"It's that, you see, I was brought up to be a good Muslim woman. And that means, eventually, becoming a good Muslim wife. It is traditional that my parents would decide on my husband. This would be with my input, of course, but they would be the ones to do the investigating, and they would sift through the candidates and would make the ultimate choice."

"And there are, if I am correct, two crewmen of the Muslim faith aboard the _NX-01_?" he asked.

"That is correct. It is Azar Hamidi in Security, and Ramih Azar, in the MACOs."

"And you can't decide?"

"That is a part of it," she said, "But it is also that I _shouldn't_ decide. The decision should not be based solely upon looks or desires or physical needs. It should be based upon his piety, and other usual requirements, such as whether he has _halal _income, sufficient to support our household."

"What is a halal income, if I may ask?" the Denobulan inquired.

"Well, his income would have to be based, mainly, upon things that are proper in our faith. For example, he could not be a bartender, for alcohol is forbidden."

"But surely both of these men meet this requirement?"

"They do," she said, "The Starfleet Imam has ruled as such."

"Then that's no dilemma," Phlox observed, "What else is a requirement?"

"He must be able to make mature judgments. He needs to have a forgiving nature, tolerance, an even temper."

"Those are much more subjective criteria."

"That's right," she said, "so I need some help in that area. Actually, that's why I'm here."

"You want me to help you?" he asked.

"My father is, my father is," she began, and started to cry a little. The doctor gave her a tissue, and she dabbed at her eyes before continuing. "My father is years from being born, and he is certainly not here. He would check for those things. But I have no father here. You, you are a father, yes?"

"I am," Phlox swallowed hard. Tears weren't too far away for him, either. "I have five children." Or would have, or had had – the verb tenses never seemed to be right. Mettus and the others were far from their births.

"Have you had to choose their spouses?" she asked.

"That's not our tradition," he stated, "I have no experience in this area."

"Well, but you are wise and you have raised your children and you are kind and decent," she pointed out. "I, I need your help. Please."

"What else would I have to determine, apart from, what did you say, whether either of these men could be forgiving?"

"You would learn whether they are capable of mature judgments, whether they have forgiving natures and tolerance, and an even temper. You would also need to determine if they are from decent stable families, and have a good appearance and bodily cleanliness. And, and I would get a dower. You would help me with that."

"A dower?"

"It is a gift to the bride. It would become my own personal property. But I am getting ahead of myself," Maryam looked down, "What is more important now is these, these more subjective judgments, as you called them."

"I can give them physical examinations and I can interview them," Phlox allowed, "and perhaps observe them over the course of, let's say, six months? After that, though, I'm unsure as to what I would do. What would you be expecting of me?"

"That would be plenty," she said, "and, when all of the evidence is in, I would hope that you would help me to make the decision."

"What if it's a tie?" he asked.

"Oh, I should hope not. And, when the time comes for our wedding, he would ask you for my hand, seven days before the wedding."

He thought for a moment. "This is a large responsibility. You are placing a great deal of trust in me, Crewman Haroun. I promise you that I will be as careful with this, this decision as I would be if one of my daughters asked me for such guidance."

Eyes shining, she approached him, and tentatively hugged him. "I miss my father," she admitted, "and you are not a replacement for him, naturally. But this is what was missing from my life."

"You are not my daughter," he said gently, "but this is a part of what was missing from mine. It'll be an honor."

=/\=

_Phlox's Personal Log, August twenty-ninth, 2037_

_I have just agreed to assist Crewman Haroun in a most delicate matter. She is the only Muslim female crew member and has asked me to help her decide which of the two Muslim male crew members she should marry._

_I admit I have zero experience in such areas. I always let my daughters decide such things. Even when Feezal's daughter, Fenna, was in dire straits and being beaten by her spouse, Feezal and I were there to pick up the pieces afterwards but we were not a part of influencing Fenna to wed – or, in that case, not wed – Zoph. _

_It is a daunting task, but I have been searching for a purpose. I admit I will, at some point, also be searching for companionship. But right now, to be able to act as a father again – I know that I can do a great deal of good for this young crewman and help her through what is surely a confusing time._

_I think it might be good for me as well._

=/\=

_Karin Bernstein's Personal Log, August twenty-ninth, 2037_

_I don't know how I'm going to deal with Ethan – Shapiro, not Novakovich. I feel so awful, in some ways, but he is just a friend. This is such a weird situation to begin with. I mean, we start off as buddies, the four of us, and then suddenly it's Open Season on me. So I became Karin Bernstein, the prize at the bottom of the Yiddishe Crackerjack box._

_In the meantime, Josh asked me out. He asked me first and he was so charming and silly, so I just had to say yes. Not to seem shallow, but I think of the three of them, he's in the middle in terms of looks. Andy is definitely the best-looking, but he seems to have other fish to fry. And that's fine. He often seems so preoccupied with other things. Maybe that's a Science Department thing. I certainly don't know. As for Ethan, he and I work together! Already it was getting beyond awkward. I don't know how anyone can date someone in the same department. How Michael and Judy do it, I have no idea._

_Josh is in Engineering, not Tactical, which is good. We'll have stuff to talk about and we won't just be staring at each other over dinner, after having run out of things to say._

_We were supposed to go to Movie Night tonight, but we were sidetracked. And I sidetracked us! Yeah, me, goody two-shoes Karin Bernstein!_

_We hadn't planned on it, so we hadn't taken the shot. We ended up necking, mainly. It got a bit frustrating; I'll be the first to admit that. Poor Josh! I promised him I would take the shot, and I will. _

_So – tomorrow – oh yeah!_

=/\=

_Joshua Rosen's Personal Log, August twenty-ninth, 2037_

_When I went to Karin's quarters I was not expecting the reception I got. But – wow!_

_It's a preview of things to come. At least, I hope so, big time. She's gonna take the shot, and I should, too. It's only fair. I finally had to excuse myself and get the hell out of there, or else, shot or no shot, well; it would've been tough to stop myself._

_I got back in quarters without running into anyone like Ethan, who I figure is gonna be, well, not necessarily a problem, but I can see how he might feel about all of it. Good thing Colin wasn't in. I had to take care of things. I won't go into the specifics or anything._

_It was totally worth it._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, August twenty-ninth, 2037_

_It's crass to think of a tote board but we have been in this state for a while and no one seems to be simply putting together a list of who is still available._

_I should die if anyone were to see this. They would call me a gossip, obsessed with such things. And I admit that it is rather gossipy. But here goes._

_There are plenty of unattached men, just like myself, but all I care about are the unattached women. There are thirty-four human women, plus T'Pol. So far as I am aware, the following women are already attached – Judy Kelly, T'Pol, Jennifer Crossman and possibly also Karin Bernstein. I am quite certain that Maryam Haroun is also completely off the table._

_Hence the available blonde women are Diana Jones, Julie McKenzie, Deborah Haddon, Mara Brodsky and Lili O'Day. Oh and Ingrid Nyqvist; I had forgotten about her the last time I was listing blondes. I have a true preference for blondes; I don't know why that's so important to me. It simply is._

_Available women who are not blonde are, let's see, Shelby Pike, Hoshi Sato – I wonder why she hasn't been snapped up yet? – Patti Socorro, Amanda Cole, Susie Money, Nyota Warren, Sandra Sloane – we all know why she's not taken yet; she's got a foul temper a lot of the time – Tracey Carter, Stephanie Ayers, Christina Parsons, Sophie Creighton, Victoria, I think her surname is Dietrich, Meredith Porter, Kate Shelton, Bree Tanner, Colleen Romanov, Shari Jeffers, Cassandra Lester, Cecily Romano, Emily Andreiou, Nan Myers, Christina Parsons – bloody hell, I think I already counted her – Felicity Reese, Amy Ryan and, dammit, I'm forgetting someone! Oh, yes! Tara – and she's got some impenetrable Eastern European surname, Bal-something or other. I believe it may be Romanian in origin._

_For most of them, I have no idea how I would chat them up. I can see it now – "did you see me at the ceremony today, when I read off a slip of paper and tossed it in a hole that I didn't even dig?"_

_Blimey, I'm pathetic._

_I'll talk to Hoshi; see if that committee of hers can muster up some sort of an activity where I can shine._

"_Hi, I'm Malcolm. Did you see how astounding I was at, well, something or other? Would you like to go to bed with me?"_

_I suppose I should work on that._


	14. Chapter 14 - Grilled Pineapple Crumble

Chapter 14 – Grilled Pineapple Crumble

"We have a birthday today," Lili told Will, reading off the master calendar on her PADD.

"Oh?"

"It's Lieutenant Reed – he's, um, lemme see. Forty-two," she decided, after calculating. Everyone's age calculation was a good 117 years before the actual, so Malcolm, who was truly born in 2112, was, by their reckoning, born in 1995.

"Ideas for a cake? I've made pineapple for him every year," Will said.

"I say go with what works," she confirmed, "but maybe we can grill the pineapple so it's all a tiny bit smoky and different. Give him something a little unexpected, eh?"

"You're in charge of that," Will said.

"You mean you'll direct him over here if he has any complaints, eh?"

"Something like that."

She set about slicing the pineapple thinly for the grill.

=/\=

Hoshi sat at her station, staring at the video feed from the planet. It wasn't that interesting; really just weather patterns going by as the occasional alien lizard checked out the two saplings. The orange tree was doing particularly well. The coconut palm seemed healthy but its growth was a bit slower than expected.

She finally said, "We should name the hot planet."

Jonathan looked at her, "I beg your pardon?"

"Well, we shouldn't just say we're going to a planet. And in particular that'll matter when we – er, _if _we – can use the other one." They were on their way to the second planet, and were a few days from arrival.

"That's true," the captain allowed, "What would you suggest?"

"Some sort of hot place, like _New Chile_, or something, I dunno," she said.

"Maybe we could put it to a vote," Travis suggested, "we could have nominations and a campaign and everything."

"Long as _New Florida_ isn't among the nominees," Tripp muttered, busy at the Engineering station.

"Got it," Hoshi commiserated.

"Have you got any other activities in the pipeline?" Jonathan asked.

"I have a few," she confirmed, and turned on her PADD to look at the list, "There's, um, a 5K race, maybe we could have it on the northern continent of the first planet, uh, there's a chess tournament, a cooking class, a boxing demonstration," her voice trailed off, "and that's about it so far."

"Could we have the chess tournament?" Malcolm asked.

"Do you think there would be interest in it?" Jonathan asked.

"I would be interested," Travis confirmed.

"I figure we'll never know unless we ask," Hoshi said.

"All right," Archer replied, "A chess tournament it is. After we visit the second planet, all right? And in the meantime, Hoshi, put out a note to everyone, calling for nominations for naming the first planet. We'll vote on, what do you think? Let's give three days, and vote on the fifth. And let's not drag it out any later than the sixth."

"I'll get right on it, sir."

=/\=

_Nominations for Planet Name!_

_Get your idea into the history books! We are having a competition to name the tropical planet. All ideas are welcome. Nominations are due at twenty-three hundred fifty-nine hours on the fourth of September. We will vote on the nominees on the fifth. Voting will end at fourteen hundred hours on that day. Ties will be decided later on the fifth, if necessary. The winner will be announced on the sixth_.

Lili read the message on her PADD aloud. "So what would you name that planet?" she asked Will as she started cooking the pineapple on the grill.

"What?"

"The planet – you know, the one with the tropical and Mediterranean continents? What would you name it?"

"Uh, I dunno. Why do you ask?"

"Will, didn't you pay attention to what I just said? There's going to be a competition. I guess the winner gets naming rights. We'll vote in a few days and everything."

"I'll think about it."

=/\=

At dinner that night, the crew was abuzz with ideas for names. Lieutenant Reed cut his cake in the Captain's Mess. "Let me know how you like it," Lili hovered a little anxiously.

"I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

"Well, you see, I was trying out something new," she admitted, "because I've been trying to figure out how to serve a Kosher cake if we have a meat meal," she explained.

"Oh?" Archer asked.

"See, I wouldn't be able to make it with dairy. So I admit I experimented a bit with Lieutenant Reed's cake here. Commander," she told T'Pol, "it's totally vegan."

"What did ya use instead o' butter?" Tripp inquired.

"Oleo and a little magic," she winked, "I didn't even add eggs. So it's a bit more like a pie, as you can see. It doesn't have a lot of structural integrity – that's due to the lack of eggs. Maybe we should call it a crumble?"

Malcolm tasted it tentatively. "It's a little smoky."

"Is that bad?"

"No, not at all," he smiled a bit, "It's rather unexpected, a bit of a surprise there. Well done, Ensign."

"Thank you, sir." She took the cake from him and began slicing it up for the others.

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, September second, 2037_

_I was not expecting my forty-second birthday to take place in 2037, but that is what we are dealing with. And so I am settling into a spot of middle age long before the birth of my long-deceased grandparents. Life is still rather upside-down, and that can be unsettling. The date certainly brings that to the fore._

_Still, it was as festive as it could have been. Ensign O'Day made me a pineapple cake or, rather, it was a bit more like a pie or she called it something else; I forget what. In the past few years, I have suffered through Chef's creations in this area, including a pineapple upside-down cake that I felt was far too cloyingly sweet. Plus all of those were chockfull of dairy and I suffered afterwards. I suppose in my medical file there is a line item for visits on September the third of every year._

_But not this year! The cake was not made from dairy at all. And it had an intriguing smoky flavor. I imagine the pineapple was grilled somehow, perhaps even glazed with some such or other. Be that as it may, it was a true surprise, at a time when I had thought that there could not possibly be any surprises. _

_Hoshi has set up a chess tournament. I do not yet know my opponents, but I don't imagine everyone is interested in this activity. I need to keep cool, lure them all into a false sense of security. And then I shall pounce – much like I shall do to some unsuspecting female, I suppose. Let's see if any of my opponents are of the fairer sex. Checkmate as foreplay? Bring on the Sicilian Defense, then!_

=/\=

_Hoshi Sato's Personal Log, September second, 2037_

_I have gotten sixteen people for the chess tournament. Captain Archer wants to hold it on the sixth, on the day that we'll announce the winner of the planet-naming contest. I have an idea for a second prize after that._

_In other news, man, I am such a chicken! I have considered asking Miller out, and I guess he would be receptive, particularly now that Bernstein is showing signs that she's with Rosen. Would he be okay with me? I am a lapsed Buddhist. I am not about to become Jewish. Does that matter to him? Would he want his kids to be half-Japanese?_

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, September second, 2037_

_Hoshi tells me that she's gotten a few ideas for the name for the hot planet. Fortunately, this other one we are going to is probably a bit cooler, given the size of its star and its distance from that star. _

_Plus we'll have a chess tournament. That's not exactly my idea of fun, but apparently we have sixteen takers, so we can have a well put-together tournament. I've decided, as captain, to allow betting on the games. It's nothing much – really just small ration packs. T'Pol was a little concerned about that but I assured her that we would collect the ration packs when it was all over. No one's going to walk away with a ton of our emergency food just because they predicted the winner of the tournament._

=/\=

_T'Pol's Personal Log, September second, 2037_

_My relationship with Commander Tucker is proceeding smoothly._

_I have had no problems meditating in the last few months, despite the somewhat unsettling news about our detour into the past. The Vulcan Science Directorate had shown that time travel is impossible, yet here we are. I suppose our existence, in a way, is a counterargument to theirs. When our descendants arrive in 2154, it would be most logical for them to present their findings to the Directorate._

_As for whether any of them will be my own descendants; that remains to be seen. I am of two minds in that area. While I would welcome the chance to continue my line and also fulfill the promise of Pon Farr, it will not be with a Vulcan. That much is obvious, for a trip to Vulcan is out of the question, at least for that purpose. To have a temporally paradoxical child would be unwise._

_My sole prospect is Commander Tucker, and I am unsure as to whether we can produce viable offspring. Perhaps we cannot, and such speculation is futile. Or perhaps the Commander's somewhat volatile nature would preclude such a product of our relationship, even if it were possible. That is, we have not discussed the matter, and we have not discussed whether we are truly serious. If children are possible, there is the very real possibility that he would balk._

_It is only logical for me to consider this as a possible issue._

10


	15. Chapter 15 - The Rumor Mill

Chapter 15 - The Rumor Mill

"I've got our candidates," Hoshi told the captain. They were in his Ready Room.

"All right, let's hear 'em."

"_New Tahiti, New Hawaii, New Venus, Nueva Ecuador_ …."

"Are there any names without the word _new_ in them?" he asked.

"_Sauna World_."

"_Sauna World_?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, I think that one was a joke. And then there's this one," she paused for a second, "it's my favorite – _Paradise_."

"Did you come up with that one?"

"Nope, it was Torres," she said, "or at least I got his message first. But there were five other people who independently came up with the same name."

"Any other candidates?"

"_Archer's World_ and _Pleasure Planet_."

"Oh God, the last thing I want is for that place to be named after me."

"Should I remove it from contention?" she asked.

He thought for a moment. "No," he sighed, "just, I hope there aren't any serious campaigns for it."

=/\=

They touched down on the more temperate planet. This time, the investigative team consisted of T'Pol, Travis, Shelby and Security Crewman Deborah Haddon.

There was a bit of a breeze, but it wasn't too strong. The scent of vegetation was heavy in the air. Shelby walked along, the ground a little swampy and giving under her tread, T'Pol next to her. They tapped on PADDs, pausing on occasion to take a picture or type out a more extensive note. Deb followed, phase rifle at the ready.

They walked up a small rise and could see what looked like hundreds of symmetrical holes in the ground, all about a half a meter or so apart.

"What do you think is down those holes?" Deb asked.

"Maybe they're the entrances to dens for small animals," Shelby guessed. That was Miller's department, not hers. She knelt down, set her PADD for camera mode with flash, and then laid it flat atop the nearest hole. The PADD clicked a few times until she picked it up and tapped on it so as to remove it from _automatic_ mode.

"Anything?" T'Pol asked.

Shelby looked at the little screen. "No, it just looks like it takes a ninety degree bend after going down maybe thirty centimeters."

T'Pol positioned her own PADD over a different hole and repeated what Shelby had done. "I have similar results," she reported after appraising the pictures. "It may be a series of tunnels."

"If our feet were smaller, I bet we could turn an ankle stepping into one of these," Deb opined.

"Perhaps that is the idea. Look," T'Pol pointed.

In the distance, there was a hulking beast of some sort. It was difficult to see, and shuffled along, a bit unsteadily. As they watched, it changed color, from a kind of rust brown to a milky white, and then to celadon.

"We should return to the shuttle," Deb was a bit concerned. Even though the thing – whatever it was – didn't seem to be capable of moving that quickly, she didn't want to find out if her hypothesis was flawed. Plus it could change color, perhaps at will. What other tricks might it have up its figurative sleeve?

T'Pol continued scanning, and Deb got a bit antsy. "_Now_, Commander," she repeated, insistent, and then added, "please."

=/\=

On the _Enterprise_, two people met in an otherwise empty lab. "You are _so_ hot," he told her.

She pushed him away. "Did you see them today? _God_, it's Jennings and it's Todd and that other guy, what's-his-name."

"And don't forget my CO," added the man. By his uniform, it was obvious – he was a MACO.

"My department head, too," she sneered, "they make me sick."

"Yeah, I can just imagine them," he haughtily explained, "getting all sweaty and lubed up at the gym, doing each other. I bet the Major's taken a few."

"Naah, I bet he's a pitcher, not a catcher," she speculated, "now, the head of my department? He is _definitely_ a catcher. I bet he can't get enough of it."

"Then you got something in common with him," he quipped. She glared at him, so he added, "I didn't mean it _that_ way."

"Oh? Well how _do_ you mean it?" she asked; voice sharp as she folded her arms against her chest.

"I just meant that you both like doing it."

"With him, it's not natural."

"Not like you and me," he reached for her again, but she eluded him again. "What is it _now_?"

"I'm not in the mood," she complained.

"You will _get_ in the mood," he grabbed her arm roughly, "I didn't skip out on a training session for nothing."

"Forget it." She reached for the door's controls.

He made a move to stop her, and then his communicator chirped. Seeing her opportunity, she fled the scene.

"Yeah," he spoke into the device after flipping it open.

"You're late;" was all that Major Hayes barked, "get here, double time, and this won't go on your record, Private."

"Yes, sir, I overslept. It won't happen again," he flipped the communicator closed and ran out the door.

=/\=

Doctor Phlox was feeding his animals when Hoshi walked in. "Something I can do for you, Ensign?"

"I was wondering if you have any, I dunno, happy pills," she sighed.

"I see. You know, you are not the first person to broach this type of a matter with me."

"Oh?"

"It's not just depression," he clarified, "something else is breaking down in your society."

"Huh," she agreed, "it's becoming more like a gossipy small town. People have stopped being polite."

=/\=

Lili stared at the message on her PADD. It read –

_Vote for your favorite name for the warm weather planet! The nominees are – _

_Archer's World_

_New Hawaii_

_New Tahiti_

_New Venus_

_Nueva Ecuador_

_Paradise_

_Pleasure Planet_

_Sauna World_

_Voting is due today, at fourteen hundred hours. Thanks!_

"Oh, man." She perused the list.

"Huh?" Will asked as he hunted around in the refrigeration unit. "I think we're running low on shallots."

"Let's hope the temperate place works out for us, then," she said, "and did you vote for a name for the hot place, yet?"

"Yeah. I went with _Archer's World_."

"I'm not feeling it," she frowned, "and _Paradise_ seems, well, kinda presumptuous, know what I mean?"

"I bet it wins." He pulled a cast iron skillet off a peg on the wall.

"Care to make a friendly wager?"

"Oh?"

"Winner does all the cooking for two days. Loser does all the cleaning."

"What if there's a tie?" he asked.

"We just do our usual, sharing most of the load. Shake on it?" She wiped her hand off with a dish rag and extended it.

He shook it, and didn't take his hand away as quickly as he usually did.

=/\=

Hoshi looked at the results at fourteen hundred hours. It was a landslide. _Paradise_ had over two-thirds of all of the possible votes.

=/\=

The shuttle lifted off. "There are four other continents on this planet," Shelby explained, "Maybe those, uh, whatever they were, maybe they don't live there."

"Possibly," T'Pol allowed, "there is no indication that the animals are at all aggressive."

"Commander," began Deb.

"However, it was still the logical course of action to depart without engaging them," T'Pol stated.

"We could return later, with more MACOs," Travis suggested.

"I'll run that by Major Hayes," Deb promised, as they touched down on a far drier continent.

"This will be our final stop for the day," T'Pol said as she opened the hatch.

Shelby and Deb followed her out. This time, the ground had no symmetrical holes in it, and they didn't see any of the large beasts, either.

=/\=

_Michelle Pike's Personal Log, September fifth, 2037_

_It looks like we have another planet. I'm a little troubled by whatever those big animals are, but they didn't seem to be on that second continent we visited. I am thinking we could grow grain crops on the second continent._

_As for the first one, the one with the holes and the animals, it was a bit swampy. Plus, I wonder not only about the big critters but also about whatever made those holes. I'll see about getting Miller to join us tomorrow. If we can get the swampy continent, I am thinking of a rice paddy, or maybe even a cranberry bog._

_Three more continents to go._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, September fifth, 2037_

_We'll switch up the planetary teams tomorrow, and they'll only work for a part of the day. I don't think we need to rush this. The new team will have three MACOs, Andrew Miller, Shelby Pike and T'Pol. Again, Travis will pilot. We have to be careful with that wildlife. But if Miller can get some better readings, that should help us to know what we're up against._

_I'm also pleased to report that the name of the hot planet will be Paradise. We'll announce it tomorrow, at the chess tournament. We'll also announce a new contest, to name this second planet. I'm not much of a chess player, but I understand Travis and Malcolm are. It should prove interesting._

_So far, so good, when it comes to crew discipline and morale. I wonder if we're turning a corner. The planets and the tournament are giving the crew some hope. We'll get through this – and so will I. I don't have the luxury of depression. Captains never do._

=/\=

_T'Pol's Personal Log, September fifth, 2037_

_At present, the second planet is proving more diverse in terms of climate, native vegetation and wildlife, than the first, hotter one. Crewman Pike reports that certain niches can be filled, and there is a very real possibility of growing various grain crops. As a vegan, this is of great interest to me._

_Tomorrow, a slightly different team will explore that planet's other three continents. We will return in time for me to participate in the chess tournament._

_The large wildlife that we observed on the swampiest continent appear to have variant chromatophores. Further study is recommended._

_In other news, Commander Tucker has asked me to wear a certain gold cross necklace. He claims that our relationship is progressing enough that I should wear what he referred to as the equivalent of a promise ring. However, the piece is religious in nature, and that is somewhat unsettling to me. I will determine whether there is an alternative means of displaying the truth about our relationship to the crew._


	16. Chapter 16 - Check and Mate

Chapter 16 - Check and Mate

There were four women walking down the corridor, towards the cafeteria – Colleen Romanov, Julie McKenzie, Stephanie Ayers and Felicity Reese – and five men were walking in the other direction. The door to the cafeteria was between them. "Ladies," Brian Delacroix puffed himself up and tried to appear, perhaps, a bit taller than he really was. Brad Moreno rolled his eyes a little – despite anyone's efforts, there was still some competition between Security and the MACOs, and this was but one manifestation of it. He exchanged a knowing look with Craig Willets and Kelsey Haber – a part of the issue was also Delacroix himself. Ethan Shapiro ignored the eye roll.

"I got info," Kelsey stated as they all entered the cafeteria. He held the door open and proceeded to stare at the women's backsides as they all walked in.

"Oh?" asked Felicity as she passed by.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "rumor has it that if the temperate world is okay, they're gonna pick twenty people to go live on it."

"Just guys?" asked Stephanie as she grabbed a plate from the stack.

"Risotto?" Lili asked, spoon at the ready.

"Uh, sure," answered Stephanie, "not too much."

"Huh, I dunno," grunted Kelsey as Ethan stood behind him, waiting with his plate.

"Wouldn't it make sense to just send guys out to colonize it?" asked Colleen. "Uh, no risotto for me."

"Uh, why?" asked Craig Willets.

"See if any of you fellows are compatible with each other," Felicity speculated," and even out the numbers a bit."

"Uh, I don't think anyone's gonna change their mind about that," Brian pointed out, "I mean, you're gay, or you're straight, right?"

"Or you're bi," offered Julie, "If you have never been with the same sex, I mean, how do you know you might not prefer that?"

"I figure it'll get to be like prison," Stephanie guessed.

"What?" asked Craig, panic singeing his voice.

"You know – only available partners are same-sex. It could get very situational," Colleen responded.

"I bet the worst position would be if you were the last woman available," Felicity opined.

"You won't be, so you got nothing to worry about," assured Brad Moreno.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Oh yeah." He eyed her form.

"I'll think about it," Felicity sat down with the other three women. They whispered amongst themselves and laughed.

"Risotto?" Lili asked.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah," Brian muttered. He had been staring at them.

"Never mind them." She handed him a full plate. "They're just weighing their options."

"Uh, I guess so. I guess we all are," he sighed.

=/\=

They had already been to two of the three remaining continents, and did not find symmetrical holes or beasts on either of them. This was their final stop before heading back to the _Enterprise_.

The ground was damp, but it was not as spongy as on the swampy continent. Oscar Tiburón immediately spotted the symmetrical holes. "There, sir," he told Jay, pointing.

"Right," Jay replied, "all right, let's see if the bigger creatures are nearby." He and Oscar fanned out while Susie Money stayed with Andrew, Shelby and T'Pol.

Oscar raised the scope of his phase rifle and looked through it. He scanned around, and saw the image. "There." He indicated.

"Got it," Jay confirmed. They returned to where the others were. "We've got company, way over there."

"The animals are rather remote from our location," T'Pol pointed out. "We could take readings until they come closer."

"Okay," Jay was cautious. "But I'll decide at what point they're too close."

"Very well," she agreed.

"Oh my God!" Susie called out. She had been looking at the creatures through her scope.

"What happened?" Jay demanded.

"One of the big beasts, it fell! I think it stepped into a hole like, like these holes that are all around us!"

Jay immediately raised his scope to look. "I can't get a good look at anything. They're too remote. We'd have to get closer to really find out what's happening, and I'd rather not do that without more men."

"Can you speculate as to what happened?" T'Pol asked Andrew.

"Well, the thing probably did step into a hole. But these holes," Andy speculated, "I think they've been somewhat deliberately put here."

"Sentience?" asked Oscar.

"No, not really," Andy clarified, "it's more that it may be a species with the ability to plan out a somewhat organized hunt. You know, like a wolf pack can do, or a shiver of sharks."

"A group of sharks is really called a _shiver_?" Shelby asked.

"Yep," he confirmed, "wacky, eh?"

"Let us complete our scans," T'Pol said, "before the animals get too close for the Major's taste."

=/\=

The cafeteria was cleared out and cleaned up for the afternoon chess tournament. Will and Lili set out chairs and bowls for snacks. Hoshi walked in. "I have the roster," she said, "where can I post it?"

"Oh, here," Lili brought over a big board on an easel that they sometimes used to indicate what was for dinner.

"Perfect!" Hoshi enthused, as she took out the printed roster and put it up. It said –

_Chess Tournament Pairings_

_Round One_

_Reed, Malcolm versus Romano, Cecily_

_Mayweather, Travis versus Chang, Daniel_

_Crossman, Jennifer versus Balcescu, Tara_

_T'Pol versus Slocum, William_

_Donnelly, Lucas versus Hayes, Jay_

_Rostov, Michael versus Tiburón, Oscar_

_Sloane, Sandra versus Myers, Nanette_

_Hamidi, Azar versus Willets, Craig_

_Round Two (Quarterfinals)_

_Winner of Reed vs. Romano plays_

_Winner of Mayweather vs. Chang_

_Winner of Crossman vs. Balcescu plays_

_Winner of T'Pol vs. Slocum_

_Winner of Donnelly vs. Hayes plays_

_Winner of Rostov vs. Tiburón_

_Winner of Sloane vs. Myers plays_

_Winner of Hamidi vs. Willets_

_Third Round (Semi-Finals)_

_Winner of Reed, Romano, Mayweather, and Chang matches plays_

_Winner of Crossman, Balcescu, T'Pol, and Slocum matches_

_Winner of Donnelly, Hayes, Rostov, Tiburón, matches plays_

_Winner of Sloane, Myers, Hamidi, Willets matches_

_Final Round_

_Last two players compete for the championship_

Chip Masterson walked in. "Okay, I've got an idea for the betting which doesn't involve ration packs."

"Good," Will breathed in relief, "we were afraid that we wouldn't have enough to cover everything."

"Not to worry," Chip assured him, as twenty crew members walked in to watch the tournament. After them, the remaining competitors filed in. They all immediately walked over to where the matches were listed, and then began to sit down at eight of the smaller tables. Chip spoke. "All right, this is gonna be great! We have betting today, and I'm going to explain how it'll work."

"I hope this isn't too complicated," said Tracey, sitting with Maryam.

"Not to worry," Chip repeated. "Now, it's based on a point system. And we'll go by predictions. You cannot be knocked out. So if you mess up the first round and don't predict the winners of any of the matches, you're still in the competition."

Travis set up the board as Dan watched. He complained, "We'd like to get underway soon."

"Of course," Chip agreed, "Now, for each round, the predictions pay out in points. But, it depends on how many people have chosen a particular winner. If between one and five people pick, say, Lili, to win a first round match, and she wins, the payout is eight points. But if between six and ten people picked her, the payout is only six points. For eleven to fifteen people choosing her, the payout is four points if she wins. And if sixteen or more people select her, the payout is only two points."

"So the idea," Hoshi said, "is that it pays to pick the underdog. It gets interesting during the picking, when a player has ten people who've chosen him. Do you go with that person? If you do, you've just lowered everybody's payout."

"Exactly," Chip said, "Now, round two is the same, but the payouts are halved. For round three, because there are only two games and four players, the groupings switch. In that round, if there are one to five people picking Lili, then they can get four points. If there are six to fifteen people picking her, they can get three points. And for sixteen or more people, you're back to getting two points. In the last round, it's binary – twelve points if ten or fewer people pick her, and ten points if eleven or more pick her."

"Good thing I can't play chess to save my life," Lili quipped.

"You may be wondering about point totals," Chip said. "So if you run the board, and you get every single prediction right, and all of your predictions were for underdogs, you get one hundred points. And if you run the board and get every prediction right but all of your predictions were for favorites, you only get fifty points. It pays to spread the love and vote for underdogs!"

"Of course it only pays if they win," Hoshi added.

"Place your bets by telling Hoshi or me who you're voting for. And then give us a chance to write everything down, okay?" Chip said.

The twenty spectators whispered their predictions to Chip and Hoshi.

"Interesting," Chip said, "I'll leave the analysis for after the first round but I will tell you that there was one unanimous prediction. So nobody can get one hundred points at the end of this."

The games began.

Malcolm sat back and let Cecily take four of his pawns almost immediately, lulling her into a false sense of security before he won the game. T'Pol was all business, and quickly dispatched Will. Lucas and Jay trash talked each other until Jay was finally victorious. Tara and Jenny chatted until Jenny got the upper hand. Dan and Travis stared each other down, going to the very limit on time for nearly every move until Travis emerged as the victor. Michael and Oscar joked around, with Michael finally winning and attributing it to Russian genetics. Nan and Sandra battled to two draws before Sandra won the third game. Craig and Azar traded pieces back and forth until Azar checkmated Craig.

Chip said, as soon as the matches were done, "Now Hoshi and I are going to tally up the scores. But while we do that, I'll tell you a few things. First off, everyone picked T'Pol – sorry, Chef. Fortunately, all of the bettors were correct, so everyone got that one. And – holy cow! – Commander Tucker, you went eight for eight! Got any special method?"

"Nah, I just kinda went with my gut instinct," Tripp said.

"All right," Hoshi said, "Malcolm and Travis both received four votes, so anyone who voted for them gets eight points for each of their games. Jenny and Azar both got eight votes, so anyone who voted for them gets six points for each of their games. Major Hayes got seven votes and Mike got six; anyone who voted for them also gets six points for each of their games. Sandra got twelve votes; anyone voting for her gets four points. And everyone voted for T'Pol, so everyone gets two points for her win."

"The standings are as follows," Chip said, "In first place, with forty-six points, is Commander Tucker. Lili is in second place, with thirty-four. Nyota, Sekar and Julie are tied for third, with twenty-six points. Susie is in sixth, with twenty-two points. Judy and Andy are tied for seventh, with eighteen points apiece. We have a three-way tie for ninth place, at fourteen points, that's Tracey, Brad and Karin. Twelfth place is another three-way tie, at twelve points, for Bree, Josh and Shelby. Four people have eight points and are tied for fifteenth place. Those are, uh, Maryam, Preston, Diana and Victor. And rounding out the bottom are José and Felicity, who both have six points."

"Ready for another round?" Hoshi asked, "Malcolm and Travis will be playing each other. T'Pol will face Jennifer. Michael will go up against Major Hayes, and Sandra and Azar will square off. Lay your bets now, folks."

More predictions were whispered to Chip and Hoshi, as Lili and Will refilled the snack bowls.

This time, Sandra leaned over, taunting Azar, making him nervous. She got an easy victory. T'Pol and Jennifer traded pieces several times before T'Pol finally forced a checkmate. Michael finally beat Jay after one draw. As for Malcolm and Travis, they battled through six stalemates before Malcolm finally won.

"Okay, that was wacky," Chip said, once they were done, "I swear you guys are just trying to get in as many games as possible! So, once again, T'Pol was a unanimous choice, but under the scoring rules for round two, you only get one point for getting that one right. Malcolm and Michael both received nine votes, and Sandra got seven votes, so they all pay three points. Oh, and Commander Tucker is still one hundred percent right, so he's getting ten points for this round, for a total of fifty-six so far."

Hoshi and Chip then worked on the remainder of the calculations.

"You think you'll keep your second place standing?" Will asked Lili.

"I dunno, I only got Malcolm and T'Pol right this time around," she said, bringing out another bowl of pretzels.

"Lili is still in second, with thirty-eight points," Hoshi announced, "and the tie for third is now down to just Sekar and Nyota, with thirty points. Susie rose to fifth place, with twenty-nine. Julie is now in sixth place, with twenty-seven. Bree and Andy are tied for seventh place, with twenty-two. Karin and Brad are now tied for ninth place, with twenty-one. Everyone else has less than twenty points. And then, ah, José, you've got seven points."

"Oh, and three people got this entire round right – Commander Tucker, Bree Tanner and Preston Jennings," Chip said.

"Malcolm and T'Pol will play one another," Hoshi said, "and Mike and Sandra will play the other semi-final game. Bets, please."

The match between Mike and Sandra was over quickly, when she checkmated him. As for Malcolm and T'Pol, the games dragged on, to stalemate after stalemate.

"This is beginning to get ridiculous," Diana said, after the ninth stalemate. "Don't they want to get to the next round?"

"I think that's the idea," Tripp said. "C'mon, T'Pol, don't let me down."

There was a communications chime. Hoshi answered it. "Captain! Actually, we're still on the semi-final round. Do you need for us to wrap things up?"

"No, take your time," he said, "Things are quiet here. I was just wondering – you seem to be taking an awfully long time."

"It's Lieutenant Reed and Commander T'Pol," she said, "it's like a battle for the ages."

"Ah, the _Sicilian, Scheveningen_," Malcolm said to T'Pol, "how very Kasparov-like of you."

"And I see you are employing the _Queen's Indian Defense: Kasparov-Petrosian Variation_," she replied.

"Possibly," he replied, and then took her bishop.

They were silent for the remainder of the match when, finally, he had her king backed into a corner, and she conceded. He extended his hand for her to shake it, "That was marvelous, Commander."

"Thank you," she got up.

"Wow, that was epic!" Chip enthused, "And Commander Tucker is no longer perfect with the predictions! We've got figuring to do, but Lieutenant Reed received four votes, and pays four points. Crewman Sloane got six votes, so she pays three. And Lili is the only one who got both matches right."

"Yes!" Lili enthused.

"You still haven't caught me, sister," Tripp said, and then said to T'Pol, "uh; sorry you didn't make it to the finals." He then looked more closely at her. "You're not wearin' the cross."

"It is a religious symbol," she said, "and not of my faith."

He was about to say something, and then stopped himself, "Uh, I'll tell you later."

"Very well."

"All right!" Hoshi called out. "We didn't have a lot of movement because a lot of people got both matches wrong. In fact, only eight people got one right, and Lili got both right. Everybody else – sorry. Tripp is still in first, with fifty-nine, and Lili is still in second, with forty-five. Third place belongs to Nyota, with thirty-three. Fourth is held by Julie, with thirty-one. Sekar is in fifth, with thirty. And José, oh, it's a tragedy, but you're still bringing up the rear, with seven."

"I just wanna say," José joked, "I am a lot better at monitoring the warp containment field."

Chip smiled at that. "Okay, we're down to the wire. Crewman Sloane, Lieutenant Reed, your board awaits."

"Bets, please," Hoshi said as Lili and Will served soft drinks. Lili gave Malcolm a cup of mint tea and then got a cola for Sandra before the match started.

As the match got underway, Lili moved toward the back. Something was not right; it looked like T'Pol and Tripp may have had some sort of a disagreement. "I don't think I can catch you," Lili said to Tripp, "if you want to get out of here, I don't think anyone will think the less of either of you."

"No, that's all right," he said, face tight and mouth set.

Lili beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen, just in time to hear Malcolm say to Sandra, "Ah, _the Archangel variant of the Lopez_. I didn't know you had it in you."

"There's a lot of me you don't know about," she purred in return.

"My God, it's enough already," Lili said to Will, "I could swear they were flirting."

"They are. I think that's her strategy," Will said, "and look at Tiburón and Carter."

Lili peeked back out at the assembly. "Oh yeah, she is twirling her hair and laughing at his jokes. There's also – I think – Preston is trying to catch Jay Hayes' eye."

"I think you're right," Will agreed.

Play went on as four stalemates made the tournament drag on even more. Finally, Malcolm had Sandra's queen in a corner. "If I take your queen," he said, "your king is vulnerable to my bishop, see? And if you move the king there, it's in the path of my rook. I do believe that's checkmate."

"Son of a gun," Sandra conceded, "you're right."

"We have a winner!" Chip announced. "Plus Commander Tucker, with sixty-nine points, won the betting!"

"Hey, I've still got seven points," José said, laughing.

"Sekar, do you have what I asked for?" Hoshi asked.

He came over with the two crowns that were intended for the Mardi Gras party, but had never been used. "The big crown goes to Malcolm!" Hoshi put it on his head. Embarrassed, he bowed a little as people cheered. "And the smaller one is for Commander Tucker for winning the betting!"

"Nah, that's okay," Tripp said, "here," he gave it to Sandra, "I just made a buncha lucky guesses. You guys did all the work. The King and Queen of Chess!" he smiled a little, but the smile was still tight, and he left soon afterwards.

"Wait! We've got one more thing!" Chip called out as Hoshi fiddled with the wall communicator's controls. "Ready?"

"Yes," she said, "we also have the results of the naming campaign. And the winner – as first suggested by José Torres – is _Paradise_! The hot planet will be called _Paradise_. Oh, and we'll have a contest to name the temperate planet, too. Details to follow!"

"Hey, I won something after all," José said, as the crowd dispersed and Will and Lili were left to clean up and begin to prepare dinner.

=/\=

"Commander!" T'Pol called out. Tripp turned around. "You said we would talk."

"Uh, yeah," he said, "my quarters?"

They walked over together. "We do not normally go to your quarters," she commented as he opened the door for her.

"Well, I like being on my own turf," she looked puzzled, so he added, "Look, I don't want to be getting all weird here, but I gave you that cross for a _reason_."

"I understand," she said, "you referred to it as being the equivalent of an item known as a _promise ring_. I researched the term as it was unfamiliar. It is a rather old means of signaling one's claim on someone."

"Claim?" he asked, "Are you afraid of being tied down, or something?"

"That is not it," she measured her words carefully, "It is more that it is an indicator to others. And while I am comfortable with our relationship, I am unsure whether the crew feels the same way."

"Does it really matter how they feel about it?" 

"Perhaps not," she conceded, "but there are several unattached crew members, and there will still be a sizable number once all of the women have begun committed relationships. Morale is important, and I am concerned that it could be compromised if too many indicators of relationships were to arise so quickly."

He thought about that for a second. "You're really that concerned about morale?"

"I am noticing certain behaviors in the crew. Some are gossiping, or are not treating one another fully respectfully. Certain issues were bound to crop up. This is a difficult situation at best. Some societal norms appear to be breaking down."

"Are you saying that you think anyone is in any actual danger on the ship?" he asked.

"I do not believe so. However, with our main purpose derailed and the current concentration – by many crew members – on socializing and finding a mate – there is bound to be some resentment."

"Isn't the captain doing stuff about it? There's that Morale Committee and all."

"Today's event was a fine attempt. But only approximately forty crew members were involved. Hence another fifty-four were not."

"Someone's gotta fly the ship. And the night shift was mainly asleep."

"That is understood," she allowed, "however, that still leaves at least twenty crew members. While it is not necessary that every crew member take part in all types of socializing, it will become problematic if a large percentage of the crew becomes depressed. I fear that the captain is in that category."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked, "That the captain is becoming impaired?"

"Negative," she replied, "it is that this is a rather difficult situation at best, and it cannot be assumed that the captain would be wholly unaffected."

"You're right, people are gossiping. And this is gossip, T'Pol!"

"Such is not my intention."

"We should speak with the captain about this. But, uh, in the meantime," his voice trailed off.

"The cross. I will endeavor to wear it."

"Actually," he said, as he got down on one knee, "maybe we could do this instead. I, uh, I'm not much for flowery sentiments and, and beautiful statements."

"Such are unnecessary," she said.

"Uh, T'Pol, let's not make that a promise ring. Let's make it an engagement ring. Will you marry me?"

"It's only logical."

=/\=

At dinner, Malcolm stopped by the table where Sandra was sitting with her friends. "Fancy a rematch?" he asked.

"Sure," she said.

"My quarters, twenty-one hundred hours. Kindly bring the board."

"You got it."

=/\=

After dinner, Malcolm paced around to get everything right. He took off his uniform and put on sweatpants and a clean sweatshirt that was a little form-fitting. He spritzed himself with cologne. "Log entry!" he said aloud to no one, and then dictated it before his guest arrived.

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, September sixth, 2037_

_I am, perhaps, a bit overly excited. But that is to be expected. I am expecting a female visitor._

_I won the chess championship – as if that was in any doubt! And I have challenged my finals opponent to a rematch. But the truth of it is, I don't give a damn about the board or anything. _

_I just want human contact, a woman to kiss and hold and, God help me, do plenty more with._

_Her name is Sandra Sloane, and she is not a blonde, but I will be all right with that if she is willing. I just want to, well, not to be crude, but I want skin to skin contact, and not just my own hands._

_She is a difficult woman at best. That I know – that is something that everyone knows. And she works under me! Yet if I can be the Petruchio to her Kate – if I can tame this shrew, then I will have performed a miracle of sorts. _

_She was hired because she was very good at learning weapons systems, and has been kept on because of that – and when the Xindi attacked, we needed her, despite her abrasive nature. If there had not been such a desperate need for her, she would have been reassigned long ago. _

_I am not fooling myself. I am well aware that it would be best if I were to pair up with someone sweeter, who I got on with._

_But what's wrong with a bit of fun? We are all so very, very serious about this! And why should we be? We are all still, somewhat young. I may have just turned forty-two, but I still have plenty of life left in me. And she is, I believe, around thirty or so. There is plenty of time for her as well._

_And this, this pairing up – why does it have to be permanent? I look at Jennifer Crossman and Aidan MacKenzie, and I don't know if they will go the distance. Or Michael Rostov and Judy Kelly – will they wed? Who knows? But in the meantime, this decision, it seems so fraught with meaning, when the reality is that if we all just relaxed a bit, and had fun with it, we'd all be far happier people._

_I have never signaled any intentions to her – I have never had any before. And, frankly, I have never had any intentions to any of the women aboard the NX-01. I adore women, but it's so difficult when they work with you. And Starfleet regulations constrict things so much. But a lot of that is out the window now, so long as we are respectful._

_Oh! That is the door chime. More later – or tomorrow, if I am lucky!_

=/\=

Malcolm answered the door. Sandra was still in uniform, the board slung under her arm. "Ready for me to kick your ass?" she asked.

"Do come in," he said, and then made sure the door closed behind her.

She walked over to his desk and put the board down. "Where are the pieces?"

"I was, uh, thinking we could play a different sort of game," he said.

She stared at him, and he realized she wasn't getting it. Hastily, he added, "You and I, that is – we could, uh, we are both unattached, yes?"

She blinked a few times and then said, "What?"

"Sandra, truly, you cannot think I have not noticed you." He approached her.

She said, "What the hell are you trying to do?"

"I, Sandra, should it not be obvious? Do you not know?"

"I know all right," she said, "Permission to speak freely, sir."

Malcolm swallowed hard. Her calling him _sir_ was absolutely, positively, _not_ a good sign. "Of course, Crewman," he answered, switching to her formal title. He knew the game was over, and he had lost.

"You are in such denial."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Really," she clarified, "I mean, it's obvious to every single person on this ship, except for you. You're just, I dunno," she seemed exasperated, "you're totally clueless in this area."

"Clueless?"

"Yes, you," she said sharply, "you're totally dense! Do you honestly not know?"

"Know _what_? What the _devil_ are you on about?"

"You are so firmly embedded in the closet, you don't even know you're in there!" she picked the board back up.

"Excuse me?! Closet? I am not closeted!"

"You _are_," she insisted, and then sighed in frustration. She hit the door panel and it slid open. "God, the last thing I need is some fag trying to prove he's straight by trying to do me! Get with Major Hayes or Preston Jennings or Frank Todd or Lucas Donnelly or, or Dave Constantine! Get outta the closet and get with one of them! Leave me out of it!"

She walked out and four MACOs who had been walking down the hall of B deck stared. Malcolm, redfaced, said to the MACOs, "As you were." He retreated back into his room, smacking the door panel in his anger and frustration to get it to close more quickly.

Dan turned to Sandra and said, "He try anything?"

"Nothing much," she said.

"Get back with me," he said as Moreno, Ryan and Woods looked on, "And that fag won't bother you anymore."

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, September sixth, 2037 (supplemental)_

_I have been humiliated. I cannot believe what has happened. I don't quite know what to do. She works for me, and so it is problematic. But this cannot stand._

_She has also insulted – or at least outed – the Major and MACO Frank Todd and three others. Something needs to be done. I shall contact the captain in the morning._

_I feel awful. It's not for missing out on my chance so much as how the whole thing sickens me, to be yelled at and all of that. And to what end? If I deny things, I merely look closeted, as she said. If I do not, then, well, silence implies consent and correctness now, doesn't it?_

=/\=

_Charles Tucker's Personal Log, September sixth, 2037_

_I can't believe I popped the question. I can't believe T'Pol said yes._

_I don't know the first things about preparing for a wedding. T'Pol says she wants to wait a bit. And that's fine. _

_She also says she thinks the captain is a bit depressed. Maybe he is. I don't know. I hope our news doesn't upset him unnecessarily._

=/\=

_Michael Rostov's Personal Log, September sixth, 2037_

_I'm gonna tell Judy tomorrow. It was so good watching her root me on while I played today. I'm not such a great chess player, but I had the best cheerleader._

_I love her. I'm gonna tell her._

31


	17. Chapter 17 -The Protocol

Chapter 17 – The Protocol

The captain read the message on his PADD again. It said the following –

_Captain Archer,_

_I should like for you to call a meeting of the senior staff. I do not normally ask for such things, but there are any numbers of rumors that are currently flying around. Some of them directly affect the Major and myself. _

_I fear that these rumors shall destroy the fragile positive morale that Ensign Sato is attempting to cultivate with her committee._

_I thank you for your consideration of my request._

_Lieutenant M. Reed_

Archer sighed. "Hoshi, could you open a channel to Food Service?"

"Yes, sir." A pause. "Go ahead."

"Food Service, O'Day here."

"Lili, could you or Chef prepare a lunch menu for a meeting today, in the conference room?"

"Sure, sir. We have," she paused to apparently check something on her end, "fettuccini Alfredo and there are vegetables on the side. I'll keep the sauce separate from the pasta for Commander T'Pol and anyone else who wants to skip the Alfredo sauce. I'll have marinara on the side – it's a lot more diet-friendly if anyone is wondering about that. How many guests are you expecting?"

"Eight," Jonathan answered, "and thank you. Archer out." He then commanded, "Hoshi, send out meeting invitations to Doctor Phlox and Major Hayes, and make sure Commander Tucker knows about the meeting, too. Plus the five of us on the Bridge are included," he nodded, a gesture intended to include her, himself, Malcolm, Travis and T'Pol.

"Right away, sir."

=/\=

"Judy!" Engineering was a little quiet. Commander Tucker had left – something about a lunch meeting. Torres and Crossman were struggling to get a balky intake manifold out for repairs. Michael Rostov was more or less alone with Judy Kelly.

"Yes?" her eyes widened.

"C'mere," he coaxed.

"I'm supposed to be working. And so are you!"

"I know," he allowed, "but, uh, I wanted to tell you something."

"Oh?" she asked, tapping on a PADD. "Could you check that relay?"

"Sure," he replied, and then turned to her, "This is kinda serious."

"I see." She put the PADD down on a console. "I'm listening, Michael."

"I, uh, I love how you say my name," he stammered. "And, um, that's not all I, er, love."

"I love how you say my name, too," she smiled, "among a lot of other things I love."

"Don't make fun of me," he cautioned.

"I'm not. I think it's charming. I think you're wonderful. I always have."

"I love you, Judy."

"I love you, Michael."

=/\=

The lunch meeting got underway almost immediately. Lili set out the bowls of sauce with ladles and a large plate with the pasta, plus another plate with the vegetables. "The veggies are kind of odds and ends, sorry," she reported, "It's a mix of replicated and real."

"Not to worry, Ensign," the captain assured her, "Now, I wanted to talk about the fact that this ship is becoming a bit of a rumor mill. We are going to have to put a lid on some of that."

"People talk a lot," Travis agreed, "I've heard all sorts of things, all kinds of wild speculation. Some of the guys are saying that we'll pick up Orion slave women in order to even out the ratio. So they say they're holding off on asking out the unattached women, and are holding out for Orions."

"That's a new one on me," Tripp murmured.

"There are also far more disturbing rumors," Malcolm ventured.

"Such as?" Phlox inquired.

"There are, well, there are rumors about crew members' sexualities," Malcolm explained.

Jay looked up for the first time. "Who's saying that?"

"It was, uh," Malcolm reddened, "I'm not sure what I should say."

"If my men are at all responsible, I will handle them," Jay vowed.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Actually," Archer suggested, "instead of talking about who said what, can you tell us what was said, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm swallowed, hard. "A slur was used. It was a rather nasty one. About six male crew members. I, I do not know if it's true about any of them, but that should not matter, a slur is a slur."

"What sort of slur?" T'Pol asked.

"About, oh God," Malcolm sighed, "must I spell it out? The, uh, the rumor was about, well, I was one of the six crew members it was about, and the Major here was one of the others."

"So there were speculations of homosexuality?" Phlox asked.

Malcolm nodded.

"Anyone else on the senior staff mentioned?" Hoshi asked.

"No," Malcolm reported, "one of the others was a MACO. The others were in various departments – one was in Tactical."

"Let's not dance around the subject," Jonathan said, "I don't want to gossip about these people – all men?"

"Yes, sir, all of the named persons are male," Malcolm confirmed.

"But," Archer continued, "I think maybe these men need to know what's being said about them. In order to, uh, to be able to address it."

"Are you sure that's wise?" T'Pol asked.

"How would you handle it?" the captain asked.

"Going to the men might give some perceived credence to these rumors. Perhaps an overall discussion with the crew is in order. Starfleet has a sexual harassment protocol. It might behoove us to revisit it with the crew."

"That wouldn't draw unnecessary attention to anyone," Phlox stated.

"Plus, what if some of these fellows really _are_ gay?" Travis asked.

"A slur was still used," Malcolm clarified, "no matter what the, the speaker's accuracy was, in terms of the statement that was made."

"It's interesting," Hoshi opined, "that the speaker didn't say anything about any of the women. It's possible that there are gay women among the crew, right?"

"It is possible, statistically speaking," Phlox explained, taking seconds.

"Be that as it may," the captain stated, "a half a dozen men are the subject of a rumor."

"There are other rumors," Hoshi added, "people are talking about colonizing the temperate planet, that sort of thing."

"I think we need more communications," Tripp commented, "the crew is just filling in the blanks, and they're not always right. And some of it is kinda harmless, but a lot of it's not."

"Anything else?" Archer inquired.

"There are some crewmen who have come to me with symptoms of depression," Phlox mentioned, "And I have observed others who appear to be depressed but have not come to me."

"Oh, that's not good. Doctor, I'll, uh, talk to you later about that. Any more to report?"

"Sir, if I may," Lili interjected.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I hear all sorts of things while I'm serving food. And people aren't necessarily being nasty about it, but they do talk about each other's' sexualities, or about how to peel off a bunch of the men and put them on one of the planets, that sort of thing. It seems like all of the unattached people have the ratio on the brain. The men are eying the women, and the women are, for the most part, weighing their options. I'm afraid a lot of people are going to be hurt before this is over."

They sat there in silence. "Let's get that sexual harassment protocol ready. I'll deliver it this afternoon, Hoshi," the captain commanded, "Everyone is dismissed except for the Lieutenant and the Major. And, uh, Ensign O'Day?"

"Sir?"

"You'll need to wait outside until I'm finished talking to the Major and the Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir. I'll take the dishes and then if you could contact me when you're done, I'll come back and wipe off the table."

"That'll be fine."

He waited for the others to leave before he spoke. "Malcolm, who said this?"

"Sandra Sloane."

"She works for you," Jay asked, "how did you leave it with her?"

"I didn't really know what to do. I was rather nonplussed by it all. But, really, what can I do? If I protest, she'll say I'm in denial. If I do not, then silence will imply assent. And if I take steps against her, it'll appear that I am using my position to retaliate against her."

Jonathan nodded. Sloane was not going to make it easy on any of them. The three of them sat there for a while.

"Well?" Jay asked.

Jonathan sighed. "It doesn't matter to me, what, what anyone's preferences are. And I don't want anyone to feel that such a statement about someone is an insult. The slur is one thing, of course. And maybe I'm splitting hairs, but I don't want anyone to feel that being thought of as gay is some sort of an insult."

"The words may not have – save for the slur – specifically been problematic," Malcolm noted, "but it was her _tone_. The statement was absolutely intended to be nasty. There was no mistaking it."

"I don't think this sexual harassment protocol could have come any sooner," Jonathan allowed, "I'm just glad this is the first such issue."

Jay cleared his throat. "Actually, sir, it's not."

The captain turned to look at him, "What?"

"It was, uh, a few months ago – even before we all started to regularly use the 2037 calendar."

"What, specifically happened?" Archer asked, "Don't leave anything out, Hayes."

"I had overheard some of my men. They were rating the women, sir. I, uh, I don't think anyone here is wholly innocent of appraising their available prospects."

"But people should keep their private thoughts to themselves," Malcolm cautioned, remembering the tote board in his personal log entries.

"Exactly," Jonathan allowed, "we all do this every day. I'm not about to start policing that. But if MACOs or civilian crew members are being disrespectful, I want to know about it."

"I had it all under control," Jay told them, "I put the ringleader on KP duty and the others were given additional laps or pushups to do. The rating stopped."

"You mean they stopped being so bloody obvious about it," Malcolm sniped, getting a little heated.

"Anything else?" The captain asked. He was getting tired of asking that, and there being more and more to deal with. The whole thing was beginning to give him a raging headache.

"Yes," Jay added, "as a parting shot, the ringleader referenced _DADT_, and the reference was specifically directed at me."

"I don't pretend to know every acronym," Archer asked, "What's _DADT_?"

"If I may," Malcolm offered, "it's, well, in the twentieth century, the American military did not permit gay men and women to serve. And so people were closeted. It was a situation ripe for blackmail, as anyone found to be gay would receive a dishonorable discharge."

"So at the end of that century, and the beginning of the next one – not too long before the present time, actually," Jay interjected, "the _Don't Ask, Don't Tell_ policy was implemented. People wouldn't be hounded, but they couldn't be open about their preferences, either."

"That became unworkable – not to mention rather hypocritical," Malcolm explained, "so the policy was altered again, and openness was allowed."

"So by mentioning this _DADT_ to you," Archer speculated, "this ringleader – you still haven't mentioned his name – he was saying the same thing to you that Sloane was saying to Lieutenant Reed here?"

"That's about the size of it, sir," Jay confirmed.

"I don't think you need to protect his identity, at least not in this meeting," Jonathan asked, "Who is he?"

"Private Daniel Chang," Jay clarified.

"I thought he was a Corporal," Malcolm mused.

"I have already had disciplinary issues with him," Jay explained, "and I had to bust him down to Private even before we were thrown back. It was due to dereliction of duty. The captain and I contacted MACO HQ and they supported the decision."

"But he wasn't court martialed?" Malcolm inquired. "I thought that was the standard punishment for dereliction of duty, seeing as it's such a serious offense."

"It normally would be," Jay confirmed, "but being in the Expanse and on the mission, it was decided to just strip him of his rank and get whatever we could out of him. And now we're stuck with him anyway."

"Right now," the captain sighed, "I'm trying to keep Chang out of the Brig full-time, but that's getting tougher."

"Right," Malcolm shook his head.

"Let's do this," Archer decided, after thinking for a moment, "I'll go ahead with the protocol today as was discussed. Tomorrow, sit down with your people. Actually, I'll tell all of the department heads to do this, even for departments like Communications where no one was mentioned. Just a rap session about mutual respect, that sort of thing. Don't reach out to anyone who was mentioned and don't go out of your way to treat them any differently. Answer any questions you're asked, of course. Sound like a plan?"

"Okay," Jay agreed.

"Very well, sir," Malcolm added.

=/\=

Before the protocol speech, Jonathan had one required stop – Sick Bay. His head was pounding.

"Ah, captain!" Phlox's face was contorted in an overly wide Denobulan grin, "What can I do for you?"

"I've got a monster headache," Jonathan explained, "and I need to make that announcement. I don't want to be rushing it because I don't feel well."

"Of course," the doctor got a hypospray, "is there anything else bothering you?"

"Other than some of the crew acting like a bunch of tweens, nothing, really, why do you ask?"

"Captain Archer, when I mentioned there were crew members who had not yet acknowledged that they are showing signs of depression, did you, uh, did anyone in particular come to mind?"

"I don't know. I'm not following you, I think."

"Captain," Phlox explained, "I am talking about _you_."

"Me?"

"Yes," the Denobulan confirmed, "you are showing quite a few classic symptoms, such as self-imposed isolation from others."

Archer thought for a moment. "I can't let the crew see me if I'm down. Morale is already fragile as it is. And doc, when it comes to the women, well, I can't exactly pull rank now, can I? That would be, it would be wrong."

"It is my considered opinion that you may be hiding behind these two perfectly rational reasons and, instead, are using them as an excuse for avoiding people. You may not wish to show weakness or doubt or desire, but, well, humanizing yourself to the crew will be good for you _and_ them. I suspect some of this situation, the harassment of Reed and the others, is due to a perceived communications vacuum."

"A communications vacuum?"

"Yes," the physician confirmed, "it's as Commander Tucker said. The crew does not know what is happening, and they are not getting full information. Therefore, they are making things up, and are filling in the blanks on their own. Plus, this is a high pressure situation. Not all reactions are positive ones. What the Lieutenant heard was certainly not positive. And that is, perhaps, but the tip of the iceberg."

"You said I was depressed."

"I did indeed."

"I don't know if I was before," Jonathan sighed, "but I sure as hell am now."

=/\=

Back on the Bridge, Hoshi worked the controls to get the shipwide intercom. "Ready, sir."

"Thank you," the captain nodded. "First off, I'd like to apologize to the night shift for waking you. But this cannot wait, and it has to be handled right now, with everyone."

He took a breath. "I would like to talk to everyone a bit about sexual harassment. You all know, of course, that this is a generational ship. I don't have to remind anyone of that, I'm sure. But what I think I do have to remind everyone of is that, aside from it being permissible for you to date above or below your rank, it is not permissible for people to go around hurting one another. There have been rumors. There has been innuendo. Therefore, I would like to read from Starfleet's Sexual Harassment Protocol."

He read aloud from his PADD. "_Sexual harassment is hereby defined as the creation of an uncomfortable or hostile environment on star ships, star bases, in shuttlepods, on diplomatic missions and during and about any Starfleet activities. Harassing activities include, but are not limited to: repeatedly asking for dates when the attention is unwelcome; unwelcome touching or kissing; rape and sexual assault; subjecting a person to a view of one's genitals; the public posting of sexually suggestive stories, cartoons, photographs, videos, calendars, holograms or other media, even if no complaints have been made about said materials; and the telling of sexually suggestive and dirty jokes while on duty. Other situations may constitute sexual harassment, and Starfleet reserves the right to rule on those incidents on a case by case basis. Furthermore, all members of Starfleet, of all ranks, are entitled to and deserve a positive and safe working environment. All Starfleet personnel, regardless of rank, should feel that they are not required to trade sexual favors or dates in order to garner privileges, get better assignments, rise in the ranks, receive monetary compensation in the form of raises, bonuses or gifts, or be treated with courtesy and respect. All Starfleet personnel, irrespective of rank, are entitled to be treated with decency and respect. Complaints of sexual harassment are properly forwarded to one's superior officer or supervisor in the case of civilian members of Starfleet. If the superior officer or supervisor is the one committing the sexual harassment, the complainant is encouraged to go to the highest ranking officer on the ship, shuttlepod, star base, planet or diplomatic mission, and to continue going up the chain of command if necessary. All complaints will be treated in strictest confidence_."

He coughed a little before continuing. "Tomorrow, you will all be in meetings with your department heads. We will run these meetings in a staggered fashion as attendance is mandatory. Thank you."

=/\=

_Captain's Log, September seventh, 2037_

_Today, I went over the Starfleet Sexual Harassment Protocol with the crew. Tomorrow, each department will meet individually about it. First up will be the Science and Stellar Cartography departments, together. T'Pol will lead that group._

_The aim is to squelch certain behaviors that have, apparently, now come up more than once. My hope is that this is the one and only time that we have to do this._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, September seventh, 2037_

_Phlox says I'm depressed._

_I bet he's right._

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, September seventh, 2037_

_The captain has outlined the sexual harassment protocol. It's a start. Tomorrow, we will have individual team meetings. I shall have to deal with Sandra, but also with Crewman Donnelly. Whether he is gay or not is immaterial. What is needed is for me to avoid singling either of them out._

_When I took the position as Tactical Officer, this was already done – it's a part of regular Starfleet training. And now I am stuck doing it. I suppose we all are, but it's also that it's embarrassing. I made a pass at the woman, and I had every indication that she was receptive. But instead she was horribly hostile._

_Her hostility, well, there's certainly a history of that. I just didn't think she would take it quite so far. _

_I shall be a professional. I always am. I will not let her behaviors spoil my life here. For that is what it has become – my life. All of our lives. None of us expected eternity from our jobs. Does a plumber, perhaps, think he will be caught fixing sinks in the same house for the rest of his days? Or the cat sitter or the transport flyer – do they ever wind up on the job for the remainder of their lives?_

_I shall be an eighty-year-old fighter, struggling to raise a phase pistol due to my arthritis! If only I had someone to share that with, someone to ease my days and color my nights._

=/\=

_Jay Hayes's Personal Log, September seventh, 2037_

_So it's not just Chang who's out to gossip and harangue. It's Sloane, too, and maybe there are others. No joke – there must be lots of others._

_They think I'm gay. Ya hear that, Susan? Me! I could not keep my hands off you when we first met. Do you remember? Do you remember how we sat in the back of that transport, and it was dark and no one could really see? I definitely remember – I remember your smooth skin and your beautiful mouth and you moaning in my ear as you fought to keep quiet. I remember I had to keep quiet, too._

_Do you remember, Susan?_

_Of course, I know you will never, ever read this. Even if we could, somehow, get back, you are long gone. You may even have died before we were thrown back – alcoholics don't have such great life expectancies, after all. And we were out of touch for so long. You were angry at me for leaving, I know. I know I really hurt you._

_So that time when my unit was on Titania again, and I tried to contact you, I saw what you did. You rigged it so that my notes would be returned. It was obvious that you had received them. But you returned them, unopened. It was not a lost or incorrect address, and you hadn't moved. You just, I am sure, wanted me to leave you alone. I don't even know why I tried to contact you then. I should've just let sleeping dogs lie, I guess._

_I want to apologize. I know that this message will never get to you, so I am now just writing it for myself, I guess. _

_Susan, I never, ever meant to hurt you. But I could not stay, and watch you self-destruct. But that's not all of it. You used to tell me that you loved me. And I know you remember this; that I never told you back. Well, there was a reason for that, a damned good reason. It's that, try as hard as I could, I couldn't say it. And I could not say it because, I am beginning to understand now, I did not feel it._

_I don't know if leaving you was a kind thing to do. I keep telling myself that it was, but I really don't know anymore._

_So for whatever I have done, as I have done it, at any time, or whatever I have not done, when it comes to you, I am sorry. I am sorry for all of the wasted potential and the lost hours and for any pain that I have caused you. I think, in the end, I am more sorry that I can never tell you this, than for anything else. It's ironic, I guess. But I think I am finally coming to a point where I can let you go._

=/\=

_Phlox's Personal Log, September seventh, 2037_

_The captain came into Sick Bay today, and we discussed what I believe are his own symptoms of depression. I did not begin treatment at that time, but I will be suggesting it and, if necessary, insisting on it. I do not wish to relieve the captain of command, but if he becomes impaired, I may be forced to take action. It is not a prospect that I relish._

_In other news, Corporal Cole has asked for an appointment. She claims it is not for treatment, but for some questions she has._

=/\=

_Franklin Todd's Personal Log, September seventh, 2037_

_I have learned a little bit about why the captain recited the Sexual Harassment Protocol today. Ryan told me he overheard Sloane calling out Reed about being gay, and she named other names, too, like our Major, and a few guys and, well, me._

_I know Rex was only telling me this because he sees MACO solidarity as being important. I don't think he realizes it's true, that I am gay. I don't know if it matters to someone like him. He's a decent person, but he sometimes hangs with the wrong crowd. Still, by him doing that, at least I know that I am one of the subjects of her nasty tongue. _

_And she outed Constantine! I banter with him sometimes, nothing serious. He's too shy to say, and I guess I don't react fast enough to things. I'm going to talk to him soon. We'd be Frank and Dave. I think I like the sound of that._


	18. Chapter 18 - Precious Few Answers

Chapter 18 – Precious Few Answers

"Today, we are going to discuss sexual harassment," T'Pol began. She was standing in front of a large group in the conference room – the Science department and its various adjunct members, like Shelby – and Stellar Cartography.

"Each department," T'Pol continued, "will have a discussion similar to our own. All questions are encouraged. As Captain Archer announced yesterday, Starfleet has a strict definition of sexual harassment. At its essence, crew members are to be protected from unwanted advances, and have the right to expect and demand a safe working environment. It is only the rule against dating persons above or below one's rank that has been suspended. Otherwise, all of the rules apply."

She paused for a breath. "Rumors and innuendo about any of the following topics are strictly forbidden. Those topics include, but are not necessarily limited to, fellow crew members' sexual prowess, the characteristics of their genitalia, their willingness to engage in sexual acts and their experience in such matters, including speculations as to virginity, preferences and curiosity. Are there any questions?"

Ethan Novakovich asked, "What about personal log entries?"

"Your log entries are your own," T'Pol explained, "and you may speculate about these matters if you so desire. However, if you have any descendants, they will be permitted to access your logs."

"So we should self-censor?" Shelby asked. She was sitting with Shari and Ingrid, two of the members of the Stellar Cartography department.

"Well, you could always add a provision in your will that you want your logs erased at the time of your death, without them being read," suggested Dave Constantine, who was sitting up front, near T'Pol.

"I'd be dead, though," mused Diana Jones, one of the members of the Science department, "I'm not so sure I would care much by then."

Everyone chuckled a little, except for T'Pol, who stated, "There have been some rumors going around the ship lately. These rumors are having a detrimental effect on morale. Some rumors, such as whether colonists will go to either of the two planets, are not detrimental on their face. However, they are a part of an overall culture of rumors and hearsay, and must cease immediately."

"Commander," commented Ingrid Nyqvist, a willowy blonde, "we just don't have a lot of information. People are speculating. I think it's only _hu_ – I mean, it's only natural."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow very slightly. "It is not permitted," she clarified, "Therefore, speak with your superior officer if you have any questions. Are there any further comments or inquiries?"

There were none.

"Dismissed."

=/\=

The next meeting consisted of Tactical and Security, and it was a fairly large group. Malcolm waited for Science and Stellar Cartography to leave the conference room before he began speaking. He tried not to look at Sandra Sloane, or at Lucas Donnelly, one of the half a dozen men she had proclaimed to all and sundry to be gay.

"I'd like to begin by saying that the Starfleet Sexual Harassment Protocol should be on everyone's PADD, including persons not in these two departments. Hence if, for whatever reason, you misplace your copy, there are no excuses. You can always get a fresh copy from myself or a peer. You are charged with knowing this. I trust I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," replied Victoria, who was sitting next to Lucas. "We hear rumors, sir," she was glaring at Sandra when she added, "but most of us try not to spread them."

"I'm certain," Malcolm surmised, "that the people who are the subject of those rumors, that they appreciate it when people like you break the chain."

"We all need to get along, and be able to work together," Aidan said, "these rumors undermine that."

"That's easy for you to say," Ethan Shapiro shot back, a little sharply; "You've already got somebody."

"What?" Aidan asked, a little surprised, "I thought you weren't interested in a non-Jewish girl."

"Right now, let's just say, it's mattering a little less to me," Ethan countered. He and Aidan were standing close to other another and he was pointing a finger up at Aidan, who was taller. Karin was sitting nearby. She looked away.

Malcolm got between them. "Gentlemen! Sit back down! And listen to me, please. It's unfortunate and it feels terribly unfair, but this ship is beginning to be divided into the haves and have-nots, when it comes to relationships. And I think that's a deeper division than, than who's interested in men versus who's interested in women. For people who are being cautious, or are holding back, or are perhaps a bit depressed, they are being rather unfairly characterized. And what they are being characterized as, well, it's less whether they are gay than whether they are, I feel, being characterized as being," he paused for a moment, "unlovable."

The room was silent. That prospect even seemed to bother Sandra. Finally, Malcolm broke the quiet. "Any questions?" He hoped against all hope that there would be none.

"Do you want us to report rumors we're hearing?" Karin asked.

"Uh, no," Malcolm answered, after thinking for a moment, "Unless, well, what would any of you suggest?"

"Reporting what's really bad," Karin offered.

"But who decides that?" Tara asked.

"Slurs should be reported," Deb Haddon stated, "I should have been reporting them all along." Sandra, her roommate, just glared at her.

"Any other ideas?" Malcolm asked. He really didn't want to continue the discussion, but he knew he had to. But all he really wanted was for the meeting to be over with already.

"Why are we having this discussion?" Sandra asked. She looked Malcolm in the eye as she said it, hoping to see him squirm.

"There have been, there have been rumors," Malcolm explained carefully, "And regardless of the, the veracity of these rumors, or even whether they are positive, it simply doesn't matter. They have to stop!"

"People are going to talk," Sandra grinned, "Free speech and all that."

"Of course," Malcolm allowed, "But there are certain standards of behavior, of, of how we treat one another. After all, my, my right to swing my arms stops at the point where my hand meets your nose, yes? There are limits in our society. And we all are well aware that this is a tiny, closed-off and cramped society that we find ourselves in. Treating one another with courtesy, decency and mutual respect is more vital than it ever has been, I'll wager. And that begins with shutting down the rumor mill. I know that people will speculate. But that's a far cry from insults, innuendo and nasty hearsay. I trust you are all intelligent and mature enough to know the difference. Now, if there are no further questions, we will adjourn."

=/\=

The captain met with Sekar, Will and Lili. "I guess we're the odds and ends," she opined.

"Please, the ship can't run without you," stated Jonathan, "Er, this will be pretty informal. You were all given a copy of the Starfleet protocol. Everybody was. Are there any thoughts about it?"

"Can I say something?" Sekar asked.

"Of course," Jonathan encouraged.

"I think that people who are being more cautious are being penalized for that. Not everyone here can, just, turn it on whenever they want to. They may be shy, or not interested in anyone here, or even asexual. But there is a rift forming, between the attached and unattached people."

"For me," Lili sighed, "I figure it's got to be about age. I mean, it's no secret why Jennifer and T'Pol are already taken. To my mind, I look at the rest of the women, and I can practically lay odds that at least half of them will be committed in a year or less. I am older than every woman here, except for T'Pol. I think I weigh more than most of them, as well. I'm an Ensign and not a Crewman – that's something in my favor, right? But I've also been there, done that, when it comes to turning forty. I mean, if there's a betting pool to figure out who the last available woman will be, well, I'd love to see the over/under on me, and whatever dates and times anyone's come up with."

"Lili," Will assured her, "you won't be last."

"Moving right along," Archer added, "I know these are difficult circumstances at best. And sometimes the ratio and the, the committing is all anyone can think about. I know we have more or less stopped exploring, and that's got to hurt almost as much as being stuck here does."

"I think we should all just try to be extra kind," Will offered, "we're all in the same boat here."

"Or star ship," Sekar commiserated, "Before we originally got underway, there were fellows who said I was gay because I sew and do crafts and the like as the Quartermaster."

"Huh, I've gotten that, too, because I cook," Will stated.

"That's absurd," Lili was incredulous, "Professions aren't for one gender or another unless you're a surrogate mother or a sperm donor."

"Please, as the Bachelor Captain, I get my share," Jonathan confided to the rest of them, "I don't know if Captain Hernandez deals with, er, dealt with, uh, will deal with anything like that."

"I imagine there's someone out there," Lili mused, "who equates her being a strong woman with an idea that she might not prefer men. Some of the women in Tactical or Security or in the MACOs might hear some of that, too."

"We're supposed to be past this," Will asked, "Why aren't we?"

"I guess not everyone got the memo," Sekar opined.

"At least everyone got the protocol," Archer stated, "No one on the _NX-01_ can say they weren't informed. Are we, uh, done here?"

"I think so," Will speculated, "I get the feeling the three of us aren't the people you should be worried about."

=/\=

Navigation and Piloting were next, and Travis was a bit nervous. Most of his audience, except for Chris Harris, Bruce Chalfont and Preston Jennings, was female. Travis spoke. "I know you all went over this before we left space dock. And I bet Human Resources did a much better job than I will. So please bear with me. The, uh, the main thing is to make sure that we all treat each other fairly and decently. And I hope everyone here feels they can come to me if they feel they're being bothered or treated improperly. I am here to help all of you, as best as I can."

Sophie Creighton spoke up. "Sir, what happens if, um, if any of us gals want to talk to a woman about things? We can't go to you and we can't go to the doctor."

"What about Commander T'Pol?" Travis asked.

"Well, no offense to her, but she might not get what any of us are going through emotionally," Sophie explained.

"What about Ensign Sato?" Travis suggested, "She's not trained in that area, and she has her own people under her, but that might be the way to go. Or, um, I guess you can talk to each other. I mean, you already do, don't you?"

Cassandra Lester clarified, "It's that maybe sometimes we need someone who has some more training. I, um, I guess there really is no one. This is not a good situation."

"I think that's the understatement of the century," Patti Socorro observed, "I see the guys looking over a lot of the women – drooling, staring, not even trying to hide it. It's disheartening."

"Anyone who's really blatant, you know you can tell me, right?" Travis asked.

"Then they'll just deny it," Colleen Romanov stated, "It's a bit of objectification."

"Well, I've seen some of the gals looking at the guys that same way," Christian Harris interjected, "Or they're pointing and laughing, or whispering, that sorta thing. That street runs in both directions."

"People are gonna look," Travis allowed, "but we all know that there are lines. I mean, don't we? Don't we all know where there are lines, and when those lines have been crossed?"

"I don't know," Bruce ventured, "I get the feeling maybe some people are seeing a blur where we used to all see sharp lines before."

=/\=

The meeting for the MACOs was held in the gym, and it was a lot faster than the other meetings. "I trust everyone heard what Captain Archer had to say yesterday," Jay stated, "and you have all gotten a copy of it on your PADDs. No one has any excuses for not following it. Anyone who decides they aren't going to follow the protocol is going to find themselves doing things like peeling potatoes and wiping down tables, or extra pushups or very early morning drills. I trust I make myself clear."

There was silence. Walter Woods coughed a little.

"I said – _I trust I make myself clear_!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" They all thundered as one.

"Any questions?" Jay asked.

No one dared. You just figured it out as best you could. "One more thing before I let you go," Jay added, "Cracks about _DADT_ are not to be tolerated any more than any other cracks about anyone's sexuality or preferences or willingness or physical attributes or anything like that. You act like grownups." He glared around at them. "Dismissed."

=/\=

The meeting in Engineering was livelier. Commander Tucker stood at the front of the room. "Now, you all know why we're here, so let's get this going soon and make the most of our time together. I think everybody here realizes that we all need to be mutually respectful. Be kind to one another. Be decent. Nobody asked to get into this situation, but we're all here, so let's make it as pleasant as we possibly can, all right?"

Craig Willets asked, "Do you think there are going to be weddings, sir?"

Tripp let that one sink in for a moment before answering. "I guarantee it."

=/\=

The last group to meet was Hoshi's. It was just her and Maryam Haroun and Chip Masterson. "I think," Hoshi opined, "neither of you really need too much of a refresher in this. You're both diplomatic; otherwise, you wouldn't be in Communications."

"Right," Chip agreed, "I do have a question, though."

"Okay," Hoshi encouraged.

"Who should I talk to if I want to change quarters?"

"Why would you wish to change quarters?" Maryam asked, "I thought you and Aidan got along very well."

"We do," Chip confirmed, "but I get the feeling he and Jenny want to move in together. And I'm in the way of that."

"Hmm," Hoshi mused, "I guess I'll put this forward at the next senior staff meeting, all right? I bet this isn't the only situation like that. We'll start to think about how to arrange people."

=/\=

_Malcolm Reed's Personal Log, September eighth, 2037_

_I believe I handled the sexual harassment meeting rather well. It was difficult at times – and I do not wish to fool myself. I am well aware that Sandra was trying to see just how uncomfortable she could make me. I did not succumb to her behaviors. I shan't give her the satisfaction._

=/\=

_William Slocum's Personal Log, September eighth, 2037_

_I'm not sure why I admitted to the others at the meeting today that I used to be taunted for being a man who likes to cook. Still, she was there, and I think Lili can relate._

_I don't know how I feel about her, or about any of the women. I know Lili the best; that's for sure. But do I know her enough to pursue something? Should I?_

=/\=

_David Constantine's Personal Log, September eighth, 2037_

_I was thinking of coming out today, at the meeting. Just out with it! Hi, I'm Dave Constantine. And I'm gay._

_But I am too chicken, so I just kinda hung back during the Science and Stellar Cartography Department meeting. My coworkers, Ingrid and Shari, I think they have an idea. Other friends, like Frank Todd, they might know or suspect. _

_I hear rumors, too, of Major Hayes being gay, or Lieutenant Reed. Reed doesn't interest me – he just seems to be so closed-off. Not that Hayes is much better! I would prefer someone who smiled on occasion._

=/\=

_Walter Woods's Personal Log, September eighth, 2037_

_I'm gonna talk to Diana soon. I want to tell her that I like her. And maybe she'll like me back. Does she go for MACOs? And for a guy like me, not even the same race as her? I've heard rumors. I mean, I know she had a boyfriend, but I think she may be inclining the other way. Still, I am hopeful. Not that one guy could change someone's mind. Would she say to me something like, 'Walter, that's all in the past and I only have eyes for you.'? Not too likely, but a fellow doesn't know unless he asks, right?_

=/\=

_Sandra Sloane's Personal Log, September eighth, 2037_

_What a boring meeting! The only fun part was when I made Reed squirm. He's in such denial. _

_Back when I was in Communications, it was easier to work for Hoshi. She certainly wasn't walking around, pretending to be what she's not! I moved over to Tactical because I figured it would be more interesting. And the work certainly is. Despite the situation we find ourselves in, I figure we will still need to occasionally blow stuff up. I am a good, accurate shot. I can learn weapons systems easily. Reed would be a fool to retaliate against me at all!_

_As for Dan, he's a jerk but he's hot. I am getting tired of getting the stink eye from my roommate, Deb. Now, there's another one in denial. Security. Ha! She's gotta be the Queen of the Dykes._

18


	19. Chapter 19 - Fool's Gold

Chapter 19 – Fool's Gold

"Today, we will return to the temperate planet," Captain Archer announced, "but this time we will be going to the northern polar ice cap. The team will be different so that more people get a chance to go off the ship," he paused to read off a PADD, "Pilot Chris Harris, MACO Walter Woods, science crewman Diana Jones, Botanist Shelby Pike and security crewman Deborah Haddon will be coming with me. Bundle up! It'll be cold. Archer out."

He sat back in his chair and smiled a little. Things were a little better. Everyone had been behaving during the few days after the sexual harassment meetings. He knew that that might not last, but he was hopeful. It had also felt good to talk, a little bit, to the chefs and the Quartermaster. Maybe he wouldn't have to talk to Phlox at all.

=/\=

Chris Harris piloted _Shuttlepod Two_ onto the temperate planet's surface. "We need a name for this place. Can't just be calling it _the temperate planet_," he stated.

"Right," the captain agreed, "but please, folks, don't suggest _Archer's World_ again, all right? I didn't discover it anyway."

"We could name it after some temperate country," Deb suggested, "like America or England or something."

"There's already a New England." Walter hopped out. "Looks okay so far. But definitely bundle up. And watch your footing; there's ice."

He helped Diana get out and she smiled at him. "Thanks, Walter. Shelby, I bet we can't grow anything here, so what are we looking for?"

"Fresh glacial ice, for one thing," Shelby explained as she disembarked. "Good lord! It's like a freezing unit out here!"

"What about those animals you had seen last time?" Walter asked.

"I dunno," Shelby mused, "I get the feeling they like warmer weather. But of course none of us know for sure. Captain, I'd like to set up a camera here, and probably cameras on all of the other three continents, plus another one further south on this particular continent."

"Sounds good to me," Archer agreed, "do you think you can plant anything on this world?"

"Oh, definitely! There's a continent that's kind of like Russian steppes or a prairie so I am thinking we could grow wheat or rye or something. Rye would be hardier, but we have to beware of ergotism."

"What's ergotism?" asked Deb.

"It's a kind of poisoning you can get from a fungus that grows on rye," Shelby explained, "it makes you go nuts; it's kind of hallucinogenic. Historians believe that the Salem Witch Trials may have been caused, at least in part, by people seeing things due to ergotism."

"That would be bad," joked Walter, "Okay, Chris, we're going to move away from the pod."

"All right." Chris was shivering. "I gotta close the hatch before I freeze in place."

"Where to?" asked Diana.

"Look over there," Deb pointed.

"What is it?" the captain asked.

Walter took out his phase rifle and raised the scope. Looking through it, he reported, "It's glittery."

"Mineral deposits, maybe," Shelby speculated, "That could be useful, if any of the soil is poor. We may need to add iron or the like."

"I don't think that's iron," Walter guessed, "It looks too bright."

"Let's investigate," Jonathan commanded, and they followed his lead, walking about a kilometer to the source of the brightness.

When they got there, the ground was littered with bright and shining bits in various colors. "Are any of them precious stones?" Deb asked.

"I don't think so," answered Diana, "but there's a slew of copper and copper pyrites, like malachite. It's semi-precious minerals, mostly."

"This looks like gold." Walter picked up a chunk.

Diana scanned it. "Iron pyrite – that's _fool's gold_. But it's still pretty. And I think it can still be worked. Certainly the purer copper could be hammered into something."

"And this?" Deb picked up a piece that looked like a green stone. It was unpolished, but it had interesting black veins running through it. It was a fairly large chunk, too, and would possibly make a fine paperweight if such a thing were needed.

"Some of that's malachite, and some it seems to be jadeite," Diana explained, "A few smaller chunks could be carved out and polished and you could have a really pretty pair of earrings."

"We should get Tucker or one of the other engineers down here," Jonathan suggested, "We might be able to use some of these minerals."

"Or maybe they could be used for trade," Walter suggested, "If they seem valuable to us, they might be of value to some of the other species in the area."

"That's a good idea. Let's take a few samples back," Jonathan commanded. He picked up a yellowish chunk. "It's not gold, right?"

"Nope, it's iron pyrite," Diana explained, "but gold is sometimes found with it. You might've struck it rich."

=/\=

Back on the _Enterprise_, it was getting to be lunchtime. Michael and Judy left Engineering together. He opened with, "I know, um, it's only been a few days since, uh, since we said we love each other."

"Less than a week," she confirmed.

"Can we, uh, make it really official? I just, I want to wake up next to you. I don't want to have to worry about roommates or anything. I want to come home and, and just see you."

"How official do you want it?" she asked.

"It's not conventional," Michael offered, "and there's no rings or anything. But Chef could make something nice, and we could have the ceremony on Paradise and Sekar could make you a nice dress and all."

"Ceremony as in wedding ceremony?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," she smiled. "We should tell the captain."

=/\=

They returned to the ship, rocks in hand. Michael Rostov and Judy Kelly were waiting. "Some sort of engineering issue?" Jonathan asked as he stepped out of the shuttle.

"No, sir," Michael explained, "we just wanted to talk to you about, about something."

"Sure, come with me to the Bridge and we'll go to my Ready Room."

On the Bridge, he told T'Pol, "A moment, and then I'll take back command. Actually, could you take a look at this?" he gave her the chunk of yellowish metal and rock.

"By all means," the Vulcan stated, and took the chunk with her to her station.

Once the Ready Room door had shut, Jonathan asked, "So, what's up?"

"Sir," Judy explained, "we'd like to, that is to say, Michael and me, we want to get married."

Jonathan was silent for a moment. "That's wonderful news. Uh, how do you want to work it?"

"Well, I think I remember that you can officiate," Michael offered.

"I can, but it won't be anything religious," Jonathan clarified, "Is that a problem?"

"Of course not, sir," Judy stated, "we were hoping maybe we could have the ceremony the next time we're back on Paradise. That would give Chef some time to get things together, and Sekar some time to make something. I, I don't want much," she stammered.

"You'll be the first couple getting married," Jonathan reminded them, "so let's make it extra special. Do you, uh, mind if I announce it to the crew?"

"Please do, sir," Michael agreed, "that would save us having to tell everybody and maybe leave someone out."

"Now okay?" Jonathan asked.

"No time like the present." Judy held Michael's arm.

The three of them walked back onto the Bridge. "This sample is mostly iron pyrite," T'Pol reported, "but there is a bit of gold in it."

"Is it enough to make a ring?" Jonathan asked.

"I am unsure." T'Pol's eyebrow was raised slightly. "Perhaps a small one or a larger one if it was mixed with some other metals."

"Let's see if we can get Engineering to work on that," Jonathan suggested, "'cause we're going to need a – two?" he asked Judy and Michael and they nodded, "Two wedding rings. Michael and Judy here are getting married."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Hoshi called out, coming over immediately. She hugged Judy. "Congratulations!"

"Congratulations," Malcolm shook Michael's hand. "When is the big day going to be?"

"Whenever we can get everything together, and can get back to Paradise," Michael explained.

"Soon, then," Jonathan commanded, "Hoshi, I'll take the intercom."

"Of course," she worked the controls at her station, "Ready."

"All hands, this is the captain. There are few things that give me more pleasure than announcing what I am about to, uh, announce. We will have our first wedding soon. Please congratulate Judy Kelly and Michael Rostov when you see them. Archer out."

=/\=

"First down," Will mentioned to Lili. Craig was nearby, punching codes into the replicator.

"I guess so," she replied, "we should make something special."

"Of course. You'll do the cake?"

"I'm your gal," she replied, "Uh, Craig, how's it coming along?"

"You might be able to make chocolate frosting. Let me know how this tastes."

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, September twelfth, 2037_

_We'll need to prepare something nice for a wedding. It's wonderful but, you know, it's also a reminder. You wonder – or, at least, I know that I do – whether anyone will ever care._

_I love love, and I love sex, and I love men. But my options seem so limited. I can't see myself with some kid in his twenties. Not that I'd have the opportunity, anyway. There are still plenty of far younger women available. And who wants to be with the old sous-chef? I am competent, and I try to be creative and kind. But I just don't give a damn about going all-out, when it comes to my appearance. I rarely wear makeup, and I am about as clueless about fashion as anyone. _

_It's not that I don't try to be neat and presentable – and of course I perform the usual, regular grooming rituals – my job demands that. But after that, the extra-special things that so many women do? They just feel like such a waste of time. No one's looking anyway._

_The way I figure it is, the only guys who are anywhere near my age are most likely all off-limits. First off, they're all on the senior staff, although I suppose that makes sense, you know, with age comes experience or maybe it's the other way around. _

_What would they want with someone as low-ranking as me? One of them is my boss – I just can't wrap my head around that. And then there's sexuality. For two of them, they are either gay or asexual, or are completely closed off, so far as I can tell. How would they react if I came onto them? I picture a lot of stammering and scared looks. God knows I have no desire to have, well, have my own desires met with fear or revulsion. Like many people, I'm sensitive to rejection._

_The other one is the captain. Why the hell would he ever want to take up with me? He'll pull rank at some point, won't he? I guess some of the men may even be waiting for just that. You know, the captain lays, er, claim to someone, and then the rest of the guys, I guess they'll kind of let out sighs of relief and move onto their next targets._

_But I am nobody's next target._

=/\=

_Charles Tucker's Personal Log, September twelfth, 2037_

_A wedding is going to happen, and soon. I had thought T'Pol and me would be the first, but I guess not. So I guess we'll be second. We are heading back to Paradise. There's sand there. And that gives me an idea._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, September twelfth, 2037_

_I don't know how I feel about this. I mean, when I declared we were to be a generational ship, I realized that, eventually, I would be officiating at a wedding. But now that it is actually going to be happening, I feel so strange about it. I want to make this as good a wedding as possible. I want Judy and Michael to have, if not a fairy tale, then at least as beautiful a day as we can all make it._

_I've asked Chef to pull out the stops. Sekar Khan will make a dress out of … something. Engineering will smelt down that gold as well as they can, and maybe even add a malachite stone to it. Hoshi and her committee will decorate the cafeteria. Chip will pipe in the music._

_I also need to think about their living arrangements. I'm sure I'll be able to find a couple who want to live together. So the switching will begin._

_It makes me feel inadequate, in many ways, to be contemplating all of this. They're entitled to be happy, of course. I know this. But it makes me jealous._

_No, envious. It's not some sort of an unfulfilled desire for Judy Kelly. Instead, it's envy that they're getting there._

_And I'm not._

14


	20. Chapter 20 - Arranging and Rearranging

Chapter 20 – Arranging and Rearranging

"Jenny!" Aidan was up early. He was a night shift guy. Most of his life was lived while others slept, even his girlfriend. But this couldn't wait.

"Yes?" she asked, turning to him. They were in the hall of C deck. No one would see. They kissed.

"I was wondering," he speculated, "with Kelly and Rostov getting married there's, um, there's gonna be an opening."

"Opening?"

"Yeah," he clarified, "they are of course gonna live in the same quarters. Sekar and Sophie are gonna need roommates."

"I guess they aren't exactly interested in living together," Jennifer mused.

"Probably not. But I am. If, uh, if you're okay with that," Aidan added quickly.

"Live together?"

"Yeah! It'll be great. We'll have fun. You and I will, we'll be able to see more of each other. You know we sometimes miss each other because of our schedules," he explained.

"True. So, uh, you're proposing that Lili live with Sophie, and Sekar and Chip room together?"

"That's it," he nodded, "whaddaya say?"

"Huh," she thought for a moment, "I think we better ask them before we go planning anything."

"Understood," he came closer, "but, uh, even if the rest of them don't want to cooperate, I, uh, you gotta know how I feel, Jenny."

They were silent for a moment. "I don't know how I feel, Aidan."

He took her hand. "I know things are all weird. I don't want to rush you or push you or anything like that. But this is how I feel. I want to see you in the afternoon when I wake up."

"I'm on shift then," she reminded him.

"Okay," he smiled, "then when I get in, in the morning, I want to see you then. And any time in between, when it's possible."

"Can I tell you something? And will you promise not to be mad?"

"You know I can't promise that, Jenny."

"Then, then at least promise me you'll hear me out."

"Okay. Tell me," he stood, tensely, and for Aidan, it felt like he was bracing for an impact.

"I agreed to go out with you, initially, _because_ our shifts are different."

"Huh?"

"It's not that I don't like you. It's that I wanted to not have so much availability. Because I just didn't know how I felt about, about any of this. But I have to tell you, I, I don't mind being a bit available. And, and I want to be more available. I want to see you more, too."

"I guess that's a start," he allowed.

"I'll tell Lili. You talk to Chip, okay? And then I guess we'll see about talking to Sekar and Sophie, all right?"

"Okay, Jenny." He let out the breath he'd been holding.

=/\=

"Let's talk about your favorite foods," Will suggested to Judy and Michael as Lili and Craig worked in the background.

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Judy shrugged.

"Let's start with what you might order as an appetizer," Will suggested, "and we might be able to modify it into hors d'ouevres."

"I like tuna carpaccio," Michael offered.

"What about any other forms of raw or near-raw seafood?" Will asked.

"You mean like sushi?" Judy inquired.

"If you like," replied the chef.

"I like California rolls," Michael stated.

"Well, that's not really sushi," Will explained, "but I suppose we could make them."

"We can also make a reasonable approximation of a spicy shrimp roll," Lili called out from the back; "Craig and I will work on replicating nori."

"Nori?" asked Judy.

"That's the seaweed wrapping," Will explained.

"We could make some crudités, too, both fresh and replicated." Lili came over to where they were sitting. She had a small plate with a ginger dipping sauce and some vegetables cut up like matchsticks and placed it in front of them.

"We've figured out how to replicate parsnips, zucchini and jicama," Will indicated the plate. "Or, rather, I should say Craig has it figured out. Lili and I just watch and taste in amazement."

"I still can't get the hang of carrots," Craig confessed, walking over to join them.

"We can get those from Shelby, though," Lili assured.

"That's right," Will confirmed, "don't worry about shortages or anything like that. If we can't supply something, we'll just make a substitution."

"Good to know," Judy asked, "can you make a prime rib?"

"We can make something similar," Will stated, "And what would you like for sides?"

=/\=

At his work station, Sekar was pacing around, starting to get just a tiny bit panicky. He didn't really have anything to make into a dress – at least, not a wholly white dress. He punched up communications. "Judy, could you come to my station? I have a few questions about your gown."

"Gotta go!" Judy kissed Michael before departing.

Michael looked at Craig, Lili and Will, "I never wanted a big wedding."

"I don't know that you have much choice in the matter," Will shook his head.

"When you were growing up, you must've dreamed of a big wedding, Lili," Craig guessed.

"Not a chance," she glanced away a little.

"I thought all girls wanted to be a princess for a day," Craig insisted.

"Nope, not me," Lili said, "tiny family anyway."

"Lili's down to earth," Will explained, "no flowery romance for her."

"Oh, don't be so sure," she countered, "Uh, Craig, let's see if we can make celery in the replicator." She took the young crewman to the back.

Michael whispered to Will, "I think you may have hit a nerve, Chef."

"Maybe I did," Will mused.

The door swished open, and Jennifer walked in. "Is Lili here?" she asked. Will pointed. "Hey, Roomie, are you friends with Sophie?"

"Sophie?" Lili asked, "What brought that question on?"

"It's just, um," Jennifer's voice trailed off.

Craig took the hint and walked back to where Michael and Will were sitting and munching on the replicated crudités, but he did turn back and say, "I think Sophie is Judy's roommate, right?"

"Right," Jenny replied.

"Oh." For Lili, the light dawned. "You wanna move out."

"Aidan and I are just, uh, we wanna take things to the next level."

"I guess Sophie and I will manage," Lili speculated, "Does she know about this?"

"Yeah. I figure Aidan's breaking it to Sekar and Chip as we speak."

=/\=

Judy got to Sekar's station as soon as she could. "What's up?" she asked as soon as she walked in.

"The only purely white fabric I've got is for the dress uniform undershirts. It's hardly appropriate for a wedding gown."

"Oh," she was a little disappointed, "I guess I could wear my dress uni, then."

"Don't give up quite so quickly," he assured her, "but you may need to expand your definition of what constitutes a wedding gown. Have you got any dresses or skirts on board?"

"I have a black skirt," she told him.

"All right, and what sorts of tops do you wear with it?"

"I have a green top, and a red one."

"What are the necklines?" he asked.

"The red top is kinda roundish; I think it's called a scoop neck. The green one is off the shoulder."

"We'll use the green one, then," Sekar decided. When he saw her face, he added, "Don't worry; I'll make sure everything is fully reversible. Now, do you trust me?"

"Sure, just don't make me look too weird."

"Not to worry, he assured her, "Something tells me that you won't be the only blushing bride I work with. Now, here's what I'll do…"

=/\=

Chip was sleeping in his quarters when his communicator chirped. He ignored it and put a pillow over his head. It repeated the signal. "Dammit," he sat up, "all I want is a little shut-eye!" he grumbled a little more to himself and then flipped open the device. "Uh, yeah? Masterson here."

"Chip, it's me," stated Aidan, "can you do me a favor?"

"Huh?"

"Can you room with Khan?"

"What?" asked Chip, uncomprehending.

"I, uh, Jenny wants to move in."

"Oh," Chip scratched a chin that needed a shave. "I, uh, I guess I knew this day was coming. What'll happen to O'Day?" he yawned.

"It's all settled," Aidan explained, "She'll room with Creighton."

"This is like one of those three-way deals in baseball," Chip surmised, "Lefty Robinson goes to the New England Red Sox while the West Coast Mariners get Trent McCoy and the Titan Bluebirds get some player to be named later."

"Something like that," Aidan allowed.

"Uh, Aidan?" Chip asked, "Do you think you'll marry Jenny? Uh, eventually?"

Aidan paused, mulling over the question. "Yanno, I'm just kinda playing it by ear now. I think so. But I don't really know."

"You've got things to think about, at least."

"You, uh, you will, too," Aidan told his friend. "I know you will, Chip. I'm pretty sure you won't be left out."

"I hope you're right," Chip sighed, "It's starting to feel impossible."

"It is _not_ impossible," Aidan insisted, "just, just talk to them, to Romanov, and Haddon, and Ayers and all of them. Nothing big, nothing all-fired important. Just have conversations. I swear, I see all of these guys, and it's like they're waiting for some invitation or something, or some omen. So here's your damned tea leaves," Aidan pressed, "And your ri-_goddamned_-diculous engraved invitation. Go talk to Haddon the next time you see her. Say something silly like 'nice weather we're having', and she'll laugh and you'll be fine."

"I dunno."

"Do it, Chip, before I come back over there and kick your ass," Aidan smiled a little to himself, "We'll do guys stuff sometimes, I promise. Okay? You are not losing a friend. MacKenzie out."

"Nice weather we're having, huh?" Chip tried the line on for size. "I'm not so sure I wanna look _that_ lame."

=/\=

_Jennifer Crossman's Personal Log, September thirteenth, 2037_

_I guess we're gonna live together, me and Aidan. Everyone seems all right with it. We just need to break it to the captain. Lili looked kind of disappointed, but she had to have known that I would go off at some point, right?_

_I feel a bit bad for her, and for the others. It's like there are three camps, and maybe there are more camps, with gay men and women, but right now I just see three. There are those of us who are together, there are the single men, and there are the single women. They're all just stalking each other, and it's kinda unpleasant to watch, when you get right down to it._

_I cannot help but to be grateful that I have Aidan. He's kind of a port in a storm, in a way. And now we'll be living together, assuming Captain Archer gives his blessing, and I don't see why he wouldn't. After all, this arrangement will get everyone out of the jam of wondering what to do about shuffling around Judy and Michael and Sophie and Sekar._

_Do I love Aidan? I have no idea._

=/\=

_Jonathan Archer's Personal Log, September thirteenth, 2037_

_I'll need to move some people around. And so it begins; it's the quest to accommodate this one and that one. I'll have to think up a speech or a sermon or the like for the Kelly-Rostov wedding, too. Maybe sermon isn't the right word – this won't be a religious ceremony. I have no idea what the Jewish and Muslim crew members will do, or even the Catholic or Buddhist or Protestant ones, if they want weddings with some sort of religious element added. _

_I am a starship captain, not a priest._

_Although right now I'm as celibate as one._

=/\=

_Charlotte Lilienne O'Day's Personal Log, September thirteenth, 2037_

_So Jenny is off to live with Aidan, or at least she will be once the details are all hammered out. I'm sure it'll be approved._

_And I will get Sophie Creighton, who is suppose is all right. We don't really know each other, but I don't know Jenny too terribly well, when you get right down to it. I have been rather isolated here. Maybe that should change._

_It points out my remoteness, though – it smacks me in the face with it although I know Jenny doesn't mean it that way at all. I would like someone; I won't deny that._

_I had forgotten, but there is another guy who is over forty – Chris Harris. He's actually three or so years older than me. He's a pilot. I have never talked to him. Then again, there's lots of guys here I've never talked to. I doubt anyone's lining up to do so now._

=/\=

_Chandler Masterson's Personal Log, September thirteenth, 2037_

_Aidan's right; I should just get out there and talk to as many of the women as possible. I'm gonna talk to Haddon at the wedding._


End file.
